#SOCKS ARE SO IMPORTANT TO ME FOR NO REASON

[hella1975]

jorts neil isnt real and cant hurt you jorts neil isnt real and cant hurt you jorts neil isnt real and

[fingertipsmp3]

The last like 12 hours have been one disaster after another tbh and I think I am mostly to blame

[star-anise]

Currently getting my socks clean blown off by Rethinking Narcissism, by Dr. Craig Malkin. Which I found, in a roundabout way, from this video on Midsommar, grief, and narcissism.

Tonight I woke up from a nap and accidentally took my morning meds, so I'm going to be up for a few hours because of the meth. In place of sleep, I'll try to roughly sum up some basic ideas proposed by the research the book is based on:

That traits of "narcissism" like entitlement, grandiosity, and feeling special are not inherently toxic. There are times and places they are appropriate and beneficial. If you show up at a hospital with a gunshot wound to the chest, you should not sit and wait to be seen after people with earaches and coughs. (Actually, medical systems are designed to prioritize people with more urgent needs, and you qualify under that system. You are special and are deserving of different treatment than those others, which is why making your needs known, even insisting on it if you're not listened to appropriately the first time, is an extremely good idea. It keeps you from bleeding to death on the floor, and keeps the hospital from getting its pants sued off by your heirs.)

It is more useful to view "narcissism" not as an inherent immutable personality trait, but as a cluster of coping mechanisms. As previously stated, there are times they are exactly the right coping mechanism for the job. However, people we call "narcissists" tend to cling to these ones even when they become detrimental to themselves and others, often because they lack other ways of regulating their emotions and getting their needs met. And that is something they can change, if a person is willing to put in sincere and difficult work. It is not usually fast change; it's a matter of years, not weeks. But a skillbuilding approach turned Borderline Personality Disorder from an immutable curse to a fully treatable (though not quickly treatable) condition, and there's a lot of hope that it can do the same for Narcissistic Personality Disorder.

Meanwhile, there's an opposite end to the narcissism spectrum, and it is also pathological and destructive to hang out there all the time. It's an aversion, or even a resistance, to expecting yourself or other people to treat your own feelings, thoughts, ideas, needs, or preferences as important. For Greek mythology reasons, its proposed name is Echoism.

Unfortunately, because most of the damage echoism does is, by its very nature, localized to its sufferer and their own personal relationships, its downsides aren't often talked about. In fact, it's often seen as an ideal moral state, a kind of altruism or saintliness everyone should strive for. As a pathological coping mechanism a person is trapped in, though, it's often more a fear-based reflex than a conscious and deliberate attempt to achieve some real and specific good. It's not actually as beneficial as being able to recognize your needs, desires, positive aspects, and areas of competence or excellence, and bring them forward in your relationships with other people and yourself.

To me this has all been a cross between a gut-punch and a cool, sweet drink of water. There have been other ways to describe echoism over the years, but this feels like the most concise and useful one I've seen in ages.

It specifically puts its pin down in the middle of the moral debate a lot of people struggle with—"What right do I have to put myself forward? What hope do I have of being seen and accepted? Isn't it better not to burden anybody else?"—and says that the problem is not feeling in touch with either side of the equation, but specifically, the inability to move from one part of the spectrum to another when it's merited by circumstances.

When I was a child, I thought Echoism was the answer. It was my ideal. I thought it was what would get me the love and acceptance I wanted, and would keep me safe from the pain of rejection or not being understood. I had no idea it would actually, in fact, be the primary cause of alienation and loneliness for the rest of my life.

Now I'm so deeply thankful I couldn't fully achieve it, in practical terms. As hard as I tried to erase myself, there were always things I loved too much to suppress. I still found ways to express and discover myself in the books I read, the stories I wrote, the intellectual work of school and the experience of pursuing hobbies I loved, my ambitions to be helpful even when they demanded I stop being selfless, and the relationships where I felt safe enough to experience love and acceptance even if I didn't think I deserved them.

There's this question I found a while back that echoed in my bones: Who am I allowed to be around you? Because that's what I felt like, as a child. If I wanted to engage with other people and minimize my risk of harm, it was my job to bend into a pretzel and fit the shape they wanted. And thank god, thank god, thank god, I couldn't fully do it. Despite everything, there were parts of me too strong and bright to lop off completely to get my arms and legs inside the carriage. I was able to take care of myself and let them grow in secret until I found social places I could let them out again. Despite myself, I found ways to grow and thrive, well beyond the trauma that said I shouldn't have.

[bbyquokka]

blow me instead?

– “Why should I blow out the candles, when you can just blow me instead?” prompt

pairing | lee felix x gender-neutral reader

genre | smut – 18+ is strongly advised!

cw | established relationship ; dom felix ; oral sex (blowjob) ; finger sucking ; cum swallowing ; deep throating

words | 2.6k ~ ( 2,693 ) + 2 fake texts !

notes | a lil smth for felix's bday. jisung's will be posted at a later date when i've finished it :( don’t forget to leave feedback, reblog and tell me what you think here. i hope you all enjoy! ‹3

m.list — wips list — you can also read it on my ao3

dont repost. dont translate. minors, ageless & default blogs; dni! feedback and reblogs are highly advised and appreciated!

you forgot. you’ve forgotten the most important day of the year and you are currently kicking yourself for it. it’s felix’s birthday, the one day of the year that you look forward to every single year – but for some unknown reason, this year you forgot.

maybe it’s because you’ve both been really busy that you haven’t given it a second thought. you’re always well prepared for things like this, but this year it slipped your mind.

you knew you forgotten something but you couldn't tell what. you had that nagging feeling in the back of your mind but you pushed it to the side. “i’ll figure it out later” you always told yourself only to forget – once again.

it wasn't until the day before, did you looked at your calendar and see ‘15th sept’ circled and decorated in hearts, labelled ‘felix’s bday!!’ did you panic. that nagging feeling quickly turned into a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach. worry and panic washing over you and coating your skin in a cold sweat.

it was way into the night to go to the store to pick something up. everything was closed. you thought about making him something but realised that you don't have the materials to do so. so a quick search on the web was your last resort. you hoped you could find something that would do next day delivery but alas, after several hours of searching and drawing up blanks, did you accept your fate.

you woke up the day of his birthday, feeling guilty and it's eating you alive. you don't think you'd be able to face to him without bursting into tears.

“i should at least wish him a happy birthday.” you mumble. you take your phone from the night stand and open up felix's contact. your thumb hovers over the green circle. 

you hesitate. lips pursed together. you overthink. you can hear his sullen tone of voice. you can see his facial expressions twisted into sadness. your heart aches and feels tight, like someone is gripping onto it.

“fuck. i can't.” you throw your phone onto the bed beside you, watching it bounce from impact before rubbing your face with your hands and groaning. “maybe a shower will help me. i’ll call him then!” 

you didn't call him. in fact, you spent the whole day avoiding him. you did pop to the store and buy a small box of cupcakes and some candles. you had this idea of surprising him by turning up at his place with a fancy birthday cake, thinking it's better than nothing,  but when the store only had cupcakes to offer, that idea was quick to fizzle out.

the cakes are now sitting on the counter, untouched and unopened. you're in your lounge wear on the sofa, TV on but you're not tuned into whatever show it's playing. instead, you're on your social media, looking at what felix has been up to the whole day.

pictures of felix with chan, jisung and hyunjin. birthday wishes from friends and family flood his profiles. you're glad he's had a good day but that guilt just won't go away. 

you've shamelessly avoided him the whole day because you couldn't face him. it's cowardly of you and you know it, but in a way, you just shut off.

you rush to your feet. your sock covered soles slapping against the floor as you rush to the door. you open it and come face to face with a not so pleased looking felix.

'“i see you're still alive.” you swallow. he sounds irritated. he's angry at you and you don't blame him.

“felix, i–”

“are you going to let me in or are we just going to stand out in the hallway?” he cuts you off. you look down at your feet and shuffle to the side, opening the door wider for him.

he walks in, kicking off his shoes and hanging up his coat as you close the door behind him. he notices the unopened cupcakes and pack of birthday candles by the side of them.

“so?” he starts as he looks at you. your chin is tucked into your chest, fingers fiddling with one another. you feel like a child about to be told off by a parent.

“i'm so sorry, felix.” you start, keeping your eyes glued to your feet. you don't want to make eye contact with him because the guilt of forgetting is eating you alive. it's making you feel incredibly nauseous.

“for?” his arms crossed against his chest as he looks down at you, brow raised. his authoritative and dominant aura seeps out from his pores and clouds you, suffocating you in the process.

“... i–uh…” you start, words lodged in your throat. felix lets out a small, irritated sigh. “I forgot about your birthday.” 

your voice is small and cracks. you furiously blink back the tears that are threatening to spill from your lower lash line.

“you forgot?” you nod slowly. “is that why you've been avoiding me?” you nod again. “why?”

“because i thought you'd be angry at me… like right now.” felix runs his fingers through his hair slowly.

“i’m not angry that you forgot. it happens. i’m angry because you avoided me on my birthday.”

“i know.. i’m sorry.” you look up at him and chew your bottom lip. the cupcakes catch the corner of your eye. you rush to then, opening them and the candles before sticking one in the middle of the cake.

felix follows you and watches you with eager eyes. his gaze suddenly feels hot. he licks his lips as he admires your body, eyes flickering up and down.

he's undressing you with his eyes. 

you turn around, holding the cupcake in your hand with the candle flame flickering. you present it in front of felix and smile.

“i got you cupcakes though. i know it's not much but i couldn't find anything on such short notice…” felix simply hums and looks at the cake, then you. “are you not going to blow it out?” you question after some seconds pass.

felix leans in close. his lips brush against the shell of your ear as his voice drops and becomes low and deep. his warm breath fans against your ear as he speaks.

“why should i blow out the candles when you can just blow me instead?” 

goosebumps ripple along your skin. your heart suddenly starts racing. his breath feels ticklish against your ear, body temperature suddenly rising

“f-felix!” you squeak as he pulls back, finding amusement at your shocked facial expression. 

“i assume you didn't get me a gift so i can consider a blowjob as one. and if you do a good job, maybe i’ll let you off the hook for avoiding me on my special day.” 

“i–” you swallow a little, the heat from the candle is radiating onto your chin, adding to the increase of your own body temperature.

felix keeps his brow raised before trailing his hand down his torso to his groin where he squeezes and groans softly.

you can't take your eyes off him. you watch his hand squeeze and palm himself through his jeans. his veins bulging from his hands and arms. 

he kicks his head back a little, lips parting and giving you a view of his outstretched neck. his adams apple bobbing with his swallows. soft moan and grunts leaving his parted lips.

“don't just stand there.” his deep voice brings you back down to reality. “blow me.”

you place the cake down on the counter (after you blow out the candle) before kneeling in front of felix. he looks down at you. his dominate aura making you feel small and vulnerable but excited.

you can feel the pit of your stomach tingle and bubble with excitement. warmth coating your groin. the tips of your fingers and toes feel electric from the surging feeling of excitement that's mixed in with hormones.

you reach up and slide your hands up and under his t-shirt. his warm skin hugs the tips of your fingers. the sturdiness of his abs flexing and tensing with his stomach moving in time with his breathing.

you feel his smooth skin, tracing his muscles with your fingers. the only thing that isn't smooth, however, is the small, yet noticeable happy trail that runs from his belly button and disappears below his jean waistband.

“mhm..” felix hums softly, your touch giving him goosebumps. you move your hands lower until they come into contact with the rough fabric of his denim jeans.

you look up at him, asking for permission with your eyes to which he gives with a nod of his head.

you unbutton and unzip his jeans slowly, revealing that he is wearing black designer boxer shorts. you notice how his bulge is slowly, but surely, getting bigger with each passing second as he anticipates and waits.

you pull his jeans down to his knees. you press the palm of your hand against his crotch, massaging him slowly. he huffs. his cock twitching against the palm of your hand.

you give him a few gentle squeezes. your touch is too gentle for his liking so he looks down again you with glossy eyes.

“harder.”

you oblige by wrapping your fingers around his clothed length and squeezing, hard. his hips buck slightly and a soft, deep moan falls from his lips.

you feel his warm hand pressing against your cheek as his fingers graze along your jawline before bumping against your bottom lip.

he slowly strokes your lip, chewing on his own. 

“look at me.” you look up at him, making eye contact. two of his fingers nudge between your lips, gently pushing past them as you part them.

“good.” he whispers as his fingers caress your tongue. your brows furrow together, lips wrapping around the two digits as you suck. your saliva coats felix's fingers thoroughly whilst he pushes them further into your mouth until they're fully encapsulated in the warmth of your mouth.

the hand that around his clothed length has slowed down and is now loosely gripping him. your groin feels hot and excited, tingles in your stomach as felix explores the inside of your mouth with his two fingers before pulling them out slowly.

he gives a satisfying ‘hm’ before instructing you to continue with the nod of his head.

you whimper a little and reach up with both hands, grabbing the waistband of his boxer shorts. your fingertips brush against his hot skin, causing felix to shiver and huff in excitement.

you slowly pull down his underwear, revealing his happy train and v-lines slowly before his erect penis is revealed, bouncing and twitching at the sudden cold air hitting his hot shaft.

felix lets out a small breath of relief. the feeling of being restrained is no longer an issue. his hips buck slightly as you wrap your hand around the base of his shaft, stroking it slowly.

you watch the man above you slowly crumble. his penis twitching, pre-cum leaking from his slit. his shaft is hot against the palm of your hand, tip red and a few veins protruding along the sides.

your hand glides up and down his penis, rotating at the top. you use the pad of your thumb to gently rub his tip, smearing the pre-cum and making his tip glisten.

the sensitivity gets to felix. his hips rocking a little in your hand against his will, thigh muscles noticeable twitching. his head flops to the side slightly, half-lidded eyes looking down at you and watching your every move.

you lean in and lick the side of his shaft a few times before pressing your tongue against his tip and swiping it several times. his salty pre-cum coats your tastes buds, making you feel more excited.

you rub your thighs together as the heat in your groin is unbearable at this point. you're desperate for some sort of friction and attention but you're too into pleasuring felix. with the way felix is right now, you know he is going to be selfish and chase his own high.

your free hand cups and caresses his balls. felix hums softly as you roll and squeeze them gently in your hand whilst kitten licking his tip.

“c’mon, baby. you know i need more than that.” 

you close your eyes as you wrap your lips around his tip. felix shudders and huffs a little, his teeth digging into his bottom lip. you gently suckle on his tip, swirling your tongue around it a few times before slowly lowering your head and pushing more of him into your mouth.

the corner of your lips feels stretched, mouth stuffed. you try to make your jaw slack but even that is a struggle with how thick and long felix is.

you struggle to put half of his length in, settling with a little under. you can feel his tip bumping the back of your throat and saliva is quick to accumulate in your mouth.

felix huffs and puffs, body shuddering and twitching. he reaches down and runs his fingers through your hair a few times. 

you start to bob your head slowly. your hand stroking what your mouth struggles to reach. the head and hand move in synch with each other, providing equally, if not more, pleasure to felix.

he feels the pleasure rushing through his veins and burning. his toes curl against the floorboards and his grip on your hair tightening with each suck as a way to keep him stable and grounded.

“...fuck … baby, m-more..” he pants.

you oblige, increasing speed and intensity. felix's moans become more intense and breathy. his body and mind failing to comprehend the intense feeling of warmth and wetness from your mouth as well as the coolness of your palm.

“... oh fuck.. yes… so fucking good…” 

this just encourages you even more. you remove your hand and place them both on his thighs for stability. you push your head further down his length until you can feel it down your throat.

you hold back your gag reflex, swallowing a few times to tighten your throat around him. felix lets out a string of incoherent moans and whispers. 

your jaw hurts. your lips hurts. your knees hurt and you can't breath but listening to felix whimper and crumble makes it all worth.

you feel him twitch in your mouth. his hips thrusting involuntarily. he's a mess and he's close.

his balls are tightening and his body is coated in a thin layer of sweat. the sensitivity of his cock head is overbearing. 

“don’t stop.. 'm close..” he struggles to say between his moaning. his strangled moans mix in with the sloppy, wet sounds of your mouth. 

he lowers his head, chin tucked into chest as he whimpers. a string of “fuck” leaves his lips as he grips onto you. it doesnt take him long. his cock twitches in your mouth, hot fluid coating your tongue and throat.

felix whimpers and whines, huffing and puffing. his body twitches and jerks. you help him ride out his orgasm before slowly pulling away. 

you look up at him, making eye contact as you swallow. felix shudders and strokes your swollen bottom lip, saliva collecting on the pad of his thumb.

“you did good, yn.” with felix's help, you rise to your feet. the numb feeling of pain on your knees becoming more noticeable now that your legs are outstretched.

“does this mean i’m forgiven?” you mumble. felix nods and strokes your hair gently.

“sorta.” you look at him slightly confused. “my birthday isn't over just yet, yn.”

“true… so, what do you want?” 

felix takes you by the hand and drags you to the bedroom. he gently throws you onto the bed, stripping himself of his clothing as you lean on your forearms and watch.

“i want so much more.” he purrs as he crawls onto the bed, towering over you and kissing the shell of your ear.

“i’m a greedy man, yn. you should know that a blowjob is not nearly enough to satisfy me.”

[oceantornadoo]

quiet hours (john price x f!reader)

there is a power dynamic but it’s discussed, price is a major simp, some time jumps

—

price’s office couch. a brown and beaten thing, a comfortable touch on the side of his desk. john himself had never used it, but kept it from the office’s last occupant, a buffer in case someone tried to cross over to his side of the room. that was, of course, before you.

it started when your leg was injured. he let you prop up your leg on the couch and somewhere during the twenty minute mark of your conversation, you fell asleep. any other solider and john would have reprimanded them, tossed them out, but you looked so peaceful, soft lips parted slightly. he left you a note, come back anytime, not wanting to risk the sting of rejection to his face.

it became your ritual. you didn’t sleep well at night but as a high ranking SAS member, you had some freedom in your daily schedule for occasional naps. he liked hearing your soft sighs as he worked, going so far as to keep a silk pillow for you when he heard you complain about your hair on leather. you chatted or you didn’t, always leaving with a small smile and “thanks, cap.”

even the rest of base knew 3-5pm were quiet hours, a small sign posted on his door. the couch wasn’t big and with the angle of the door, most people didn’t even realize you were in there when they popped in to ask a question. john guarded you like a dragon with his jewels, chewing out recruits for being too loud, never explaining your presence to anyone.

right now, you were sound asleep, your small sighs like john’s personal soundtrack to heaven. simon had knocked silently, asking some important question about an upcoming mission, and john huffed with annoyance knowing he had to leave you. he got out of his chair, carefully so it wouldn’t squeak, and made his way over to you. squatting down, he rubbed a gentle hand over your face, tracing your relaxed cheekbones and brow. “sweetheart, i have t’ go. be back in few.” you whimpered, eyes fluttering, half drunk on sleep. “you’re leaving?” he shook his head, leaning in so his forehead touched your own. his hand slid towards your neck and brought you closer, practically a kiss. the comfort of it was delicious and you let out a contented sigh. “jus’ for a bit. go back to sleep, bub.” he peeled back, evaluating what kind of captain he was. apparently not a very good one as he kissed your forehead before getting up, the skin on skin contact rushing through his bones like electricity.

simon was waiting patiently outside, his relaxed look menacing to the passing recruits. he fell into step with price easily, walking towards their favored meeting spot. “tellin’ her soon?” john shook his head, dragging an exhausted hand down his face. tell you what? that you were strong and lovely and the most gorgeous creature he’d ever seen, on and off the battlefield? that the only way he slept at night was imagining your own sleepy sighs? that for some idiotic reason, there was a ring burning a hole in his sock dresser? “too soon, lieutenant.” simon huffed, the glint of a smirk under his mask. “been half a year, cap. jus’ sayin’.” john fought the urge to run back to his office, to make sure no one bothered you. “she’s just sleepin’ there, nothin’ special.” simon side eyed him, noting the stress lines and crow’s feet on his captain’s face. “i’ll tell johnny ‘s nothin’ special then. heard he’s interested.”

john prided himself on keeping his emotions in check. it was one of the revered traits of his captain position, the glue to the team. in that moment however, stopped mid stride at his lieutenant’s words, shoulders bunching and fists tightening, he wanted to kill half his team. “you will do no such thing, lieutenant. that’s an order.” simon clapped him on the shoulder with his short barking laugh, amusement dancing in his eyes. “roger that.”

—

“i don’t know gaz, do you really think he likes me?” gaz had popped in to price’s for a question but you were there instead, half awake and confused. he liked the couch too, tucking himself at the far end and pulling your socked feet into his lap. “‘ve never seen cap let anyone else sleep here. if that’s not a sign, don’t know what is.” you rolled your eyes, keeping them on the ceiling. “well i’ve been sleeping here almost six months and got a forehead kiss to show for it.” gaz froze, his hands stilling on your ankle. “you’re takin’ the piss.” as if. “am not! happened fifteen minutes ago and i’ve been overanalyzing it since.” gaz tried to reason how two of the smartest people he knew were such idiots. “darling, you’re practically married now. i’ve never seen-“ the door swung open, john’s strides minutely faltering when he saw gaz on the couch. “back to work, garrick. close the door behind you.” gaz acknowledged him with a nod and suddenly price was in his place, drawing your feet on the top of his legs.

“everyone wants a piece of you, don’t they?” it was nonsensical, what he murmured, almost to himself. you pressed your feet into his thigh until he got the memo, strong hands circling your ankles and pulling them into his lap. “what do you mean, cap? gaz was just visiting.” he hummed a non reply, fingers tracing the scar of where your foot injury used to be. “this all better?” your brows furrowed at the change in topic, nodding your head on instinct. “right as rain, sir.” his thumb, callused and strong, was pressing into your ankle now. it was like john was in a trance, fully focused on your worn socks, refusing to look at your face. “how long have you been sleepin’ here with a perfectly fine foot, sergeant?” your mouth dropped, confusion clouding your brain. “i- bout four months, sir. i sleep better here than my own bed.” he finally turned his head, his dark blue gaze searing into you. “why’s that?” it was barely loud enough for you to hear it, croaked out with a herculean effort. “because you’re here. i don’t, don’t really know why. you’re comforting and safe and smell nice…” you trailed off at the last bit, cheeks warming in embarrassment.

john tucked himself in and laughed, the air from his lungs brushing over your ankles. you answered with a small giggle, still unsure about your blunder. “whole time it was my smell keepin’ you here. way to kill a man’s ego, sweetheart.” you grinned, sitting up on your elbows. you pressed your foot into the side of his face, forcing him to look at you instead of his lap. “it’s you, john. keeping me here.” the temperature dropped, his ministrations froze. all you did was look, your eyes wide and pleading. begging him to just see, see why you kept coming back like his own personal lapdog.

you were moving, john tugging you closer by the ankles, strong hands moving up your calves until the rest of you was right there. he fixed the awkward angle by leaning down, one hand propped near your head, the other coming down to stroke your cheek. “say it’s true.” his eyes were still searching for something, so rare for you to see your captain look so unsure. “this couch isn’t even that comfortable so trust me, it’s true.” you had hoped humor would lighten the situation but your murmured truth made the air heavier, your heaving chest almost touching his own. “i’m too old for you.” you rolled your eyes. “you’re like four years older, get a grip.” he pinched your cheek, muttering cheeky under his breath. “i’m your captain.” your own hand came up on instinct, fingers finally touching the beard you dreamed about. the strands were soft but slightly scratchy, like he had a routine he occasionally forgot. “you’re john price. anyone who knows you knows that you won’t give me special treatment. i’ll run extra laps everyday.” your fingers were exploring now, thumb running down the bridge of his nose to the top of his lips. you both shuffled without realizing, your legs on either side of his torso, cradling his hips. his forearms bracketed your face, caging you in.

“i don’t love lightly. no friends with benefits or any of that bullshit.” you drew him in closer, one foot on his lower back until your pelvises kissed. “good. i want a man who can commit.” whatever he had been looking for, he found in your wide eyed gaze. “i’m…out of excuses.”

the kiss wiped out john’s memory of any kiss before it. it was slow and possessive, a claiming. six months of you just out of his reach would drive any man to this point, john reasoned. that’s why he took his time, exploring every angle and pressure point, searching for those breathy sighs you always made. he didn’t have to do much - one nip of the lip and you were singing for him, melting into his arms. you wrapped them around his neck, pulling him deeper. by this time next year, i’m proposing. john let the thought grow wings and fly, content to explore your touch as he wondered about white wedding cake and matching rings.

—

years later, no matter how you both decided to decorate your new house together, he insisted on a brown couch for his office. something hideous and comfortable, not matching the decor at all. something just for the two of you.

- -

price intimacy brainrot (i’m PMSing)

[the-californicationist]

Bone Deep

AO3 Link -- MDNI -- TW: emotional hurt/comfort, make up sex

Your husband, John Price, has fallen into a pattern of behavior that seems to be moving him farther and farther away from you. But, you refuse to play second fiddle for long. 

You were drenched. It had been raining in such a way that made you think the Lord had gone back on his promise. Perhaps the rainbow had been painted just to placate you. Perhaps, you thought as you wrung out your hair on the porch, you would be drowned after all. 

It sure felt that way. Work had mounted up to the point of a fever-pitch. You had three projects due and one to revise. Not to mention, your husband had been home and yet almost fully invisible. 

John Price was back on something like leave, but he was never around. You saw evidence of his presence all over your floor and table and furniture. Socks, dirty plates, dead tablets, scraps of paper with Russian names scribbled on them... He was hunting Makarov in your kitchen and your hallway and your bathroom, and he was leaving that trail of breadcrumbs both literally and figuratively all over your house. 

You’d gone to bed alone for two nights in a row, and as you nearly tumbled over a pair of his sneakers in the foyer, caked in wet mud, you decided that it would not be three. 

“John?” You called out.

There was no reply, but a pale blue light shone under his office door. 

You popped open the latch and saw him hunched over the computer screen. 

“John.”

“Hm?” He responded, but he didn’t turn around. 

“John!”

“What?” He roared, spinning in his chair and glowering at you, shaming you for interrupting him.

“Okay,” you nodded, resigned. 

It would be a cold day in hell before you accepted that tone from anyone. You’d gone in there expecting to have a rational conversation, but your husband had raised his voice to you like you’d been a naughty dog. 

And you were absolutely not going to take that sort of treatment.

You made it to your bedroom in a quick three strides, pulling your overnight bag from under the bed. You shot your best friend, Cana, an SOS text. She lived two hours away, but you didn’t mind. You’d drive all night through the rain if it meant getting out of this prison that you used to call a home. 

Okay, maybe that was a little dramatic, but you had boundaries. Clear ones. And he knew he had crossed them. He just didn’t care. 

You started to pack as you fumed, tossing in a few days worth of clothes, your toiletry bag, the essentials. Then, the bedroom door clanged open, its handle slamming into the railing on the wall. 

“What’s this?” John waved a hand over your bag. 

“When I married you, I married a partner, not a ghost. The only reason I know you’re home is because you leave your fucking laundry for me to finish all over my floor. I’m not going to clean up after you like some maid. Then, you raise your tone at me, disrespecting me? No. When you’re ready to be my husband again, you know my number.”

He scoffed,

“All this bloody drama over some dirty socks?”

You stared at him in a way that told him just how serious you were. The silence between you stretched on for eons, expanding in all directions. You smiled, 

“You know it’s not the socks.”

The look in his eyes said: yes, I know it’s not the socks. But, his pride wouldn’t let him say the quiet part out loud. 

So, you left. 

Starting up the car was hard. Backing out of the driveway was harder. But, every mile you drove simply steeled your resolve. You knew his work was important, but you were important, too. You’d always be his wife, but you needed some space. 

You texted your boss when you made it to Cana’s house; you were taking a few days off. A night of tears and comforting hugs (and strong margaritas) passed, then a morning. Then, a night… and in the middle of it, you saw your phone light up. Despite the million other notifications you received every day, you knew it was him.

John: hey

You: hey

John: can i call

You: one sec

You sneaked out of bed, untangling yourself from Cana’s lanky arms, and lugged your phone out to the front porch. You were about to curl up on her big patio chair when you were stopped in your tracks at the sight of a big black truck idling in the driveway.

You sighed, standing there staring at your husband. He killed the engine and stepped down from the cab. As he approached you, looking up at you from the bottom of the stairs like a wide-eyed disciple, you noticed that his blue irises were ringed in pink, bloodshot and puffy. He hadn’t shaven, and he looked pale. 

But, even though you were still hurt, and even though he looked a little worse for wear, it was hard to ignore the carnal ache in your belly when you watched the muscles bulge and flex in his immense forearms as he crossed his arms in front of himself. The way his chest stretched out his black tee shirt, a tuft of fur peeking out of the crew neckline, the sleeves struggling to contain his round biceps. The way he chewed his full bottom lip when he had something important to say. It was enough to test your resolve.  

“Hey,” you said in a small voice, holding your arms around your body for comfort. 

Suddenly, those sharp eyes focused on you with rapt attention, and he stared right at you, speaking in a low, gravelly purr, trying to keep his voice down,

“I’ve been a proper arse.”

You tried to hold back a smirk. He continued,

“I took advantage of you. I’ve been hunting this fuckin’ bastard for so many years, and I’ve got him cornered. It’s all I can think about. Every night I think if only I was a little quicker, or maybe just bloody braver, I could stop him from killing more innocent people. I let him into our house. Into your life. And I shouldn’t have let my work come between us,” John’s expression softened, and he uncrossed his arms, hooking his thumb into his jeans pocket, “And I’m sorry.”

“Thank you,” you said quietly, still waiting for his next step. Being sorry was only part of it. 

“When you come home tomorrow, it’ll be different. I’m gonna pull my weight again. You have my word that I’ll only work when you work, and when you’re home,” he squared his shoulders, rocking his hips forward, nervous energy coursing through his body, “I’ll be home with you. I promise.”

You nodded, shifting your weight, staring down at your feet. Then, he called your attention with a caught breath and words that hurt you bone deep,

“You are coming home, right?”

You tried your honest best to fight the tears, but your body shuddered through a sob and you gasped in a sharp breath of air. He moved to hold you, to ascend the steps and repent, to be forgiven, but you held up your hand stopping him in his tracks,

“I won’t have you speaking to me like that, John. I won’t…” You thought about your words carefully, “I can’t be treated that way.”

“I understand, love. Believe me,” he chuckled, “I never want you to feel like that again.”

The way he rubbed his thumb across his sternum made your own chest hurt. He tried to approach you again, stepping up the wooden stairs, creaking under his weight, and he angled his chin up as if to kiss you. But, you stepped away, guarding your own heart for just a while longer. 

The hunger in his eyes followed you like smoke from a fire, warming you with its heat. 

“I’ll be home in the morning, John,” you said, turning to go back into the house. 

The next morning, as you packed, you thought about his promise. You hoped that you were heard. Truly heard and not just for a week of good behavior. You deserved to be respected, and you wouldn’t let your relationship with him become so one-sided again. 

When you pulled into your driveway, you expected to be greeted with the same dark, empty house. As you moved to pick your feet up over the usual mess of shoes, you discovered the foyer scrubbed to a high shine, and there was nothing to stumble upon. All the shoes were shoved into their little cubbies, and there wasn’t a dirty sock in sight. The living room was bright, clean, and John was standing in the middle of it, waiting for you. He took your bags, and scooped you up into a long, tight hug. 

You thought he might try to kiss you, but he didn’t. He just held you against him, breathing in and out, not letting go. Your face was buried deep in his chest, and you could smell his aftershave mixing with the strong scent of his cigars, and a slight musk that was all him. You wanted to feel his fur against your cheek. 

Suddenly, he grabbed your chin in his hand, making you face him, and he said in a dark, warm tone, 

“I’m gonna be the me that you need me to be. From now on. I swear it.”

You felt his soft lips touch yours, kissing you chastely, then deeper, chasing your taste, finding your tongue, licking along its length, savoring your mouth like a treat, cherishing every suck and nip and bite. 

“I missed you, John,” you admitted, feeling hot tears staining your cheeks, not realizing you were crying. 

He wiped them from your temples, smearing them into your skin, cradling your head in his hands so carefully as if you were made of glass. 

“I’ve been away. But, I swear, love. I swear, I’m back. I swear…”

His lips met your wet cheek and took your tears with them. 

“I swear…” 

He kissed your neck, holding your head in his huge paw.

“I swear…” 

You ran your hands over his neck, encircling him, tugging at his shirt, needing to feel his skin. He hooked his arms over his head and rucked the shirt off his back, tossing it on the couch. He pulled you into his lap as he sat down, sinking into the cushions, kissing you like you might disappear again. 

“I’m so sorry, love. Please forgive me,” John growled darkly, his deep voice rumbling between kisses. 

“Forgiven,” you said, forcing him to look at you.

Then, he put his forehead to yours and let out a deep sigh, closing his eyes and simply rubbing your back, trailing his hands over your hips, pulling you in closer to him. 

Tentatively, as if testing the waters of a deep well, you rocked your hips against him, seeing if you could get him to take the bait. If you had your husband back, you wanted to seal that promise with more than just a kiss. 

He groaned,

“Mm, I don’t deserve that.”

You repeated the motion, feeling the twitch of his fat cock inside of his jeans, and you narrowed your eyes at him,

“Sex isn’t a reward. It’s our connection, and I need to feel you. I need my captain back.”

He smiled, nuzzling your jaw, peppering your skin with little, chirping kisses, 

“Pretty girl… I missed you so much. What was I thinking?”

You shrugged, playing coy as you slipped off your leggings and set to undoing his buttons, opening the fly of his jeans to see the shock of dark hair and the swollen prize nestled in it, 

“I dunno. Maybe you just needed a reminder?”

As you teased him at your entrance, letting his head play in your wet folds, you began to sink down onto his shaft, spearing yourself onto his length, rocking back and forth with a tantalizing rhythm. 

“Mmngh,” he sighed, his eyes staring, transfixed on where your bodies reconnected. 

Finally, after some effort, his girth was fully sheathed within you, warmed and cradled by your soft heat. You began to lift yourself on your knees up and down, dragging all the way to his rosy head and then sliding all the way back down to those brown curls, enjoying the faces he was making against his will. 

However, he didn’t put up with your performance for long. Before you knew it, you were laying on the couch with your knees on your chest, taking every inch of his cock as deep as it would go. He had a gentle curve that, in this position, rubbed exactly where it needed to, pulling you along from one orgasm to the next like you were a kite, fully at his mercy and high as hell. 

Your mind swam with murky, unintelligible thoughts, and he fucked you harder and harder, pounding himself into you like a machine. Sometimes you forgot his strength… and his stamina. 

You whined a bit, your timbre changing from other-worldly pleasure to mild discomfort, and he picked up on it like a hound. He slowed, inspecting you, looking for the broken pieces. 

“You alright, missus?” He said, kissing you, thrusting shallowly now, checking in with you.

“Can we sit?”

“C’mere.”

John pulled you into his lap and continued his efforts, rocking himself back and forth, holding your body like a toy. Then, he snaked his hand between you, giving your clit something firm to rub against, and you felt the tingles begin to build inside of your belly, a coil tightening, a dam under pressure, a firework ready to burst. 

He was facing you, so you began to kiss him in a slow, supple way, letting your mouth fall open and your lips meet his with the lightest touch. John matched your energy, getting lost in your ritual, sending out the tip of his tongue to play and taste you again. 

He pulled away and licked his fingers before returning them to your folds,

“Mmf-fuck. You are so bloody good.”

“I want you to come in me, baby,” you confessed, resting your forehead on his, trying to catch your breath. 

You saw the surprise dance through his expression. 

“You sure?”

You knew it wasn’t something you allowed very often. You’d been off of your birth control for a few months, trying to give your body a break from the hormones. And even though you weren’t trying for a baby, that was always a dream that you shared. For John, it was the ultimate dream. 

“Yeah, I’m sure,” you nodded, kissing his smiling mouth.

“Oh, fuck me,” he growled darkly, gripping you around your waist, changing the angle to something wholly transcendent. How did he do it? How did he know where your body needed him to be? It was absurd. 

Everything was bright and glittering as you came around him, and you felt yourself squeezing his cock mercilessly, coming down his shaft in hot, thick coatings of creamy slick, unable to stop it from flooding out around him. 

He, too, was erupting. He gasped for air, grunting in loud, animalistic shouts, his whole face contorted into a pleasure-filled rage, pumping you full of his soft, warm cream, frothing it with his rough movements. 

Eventually, he flung his head back, holding you to him in a tight hug, his entire body moving and reacting without his input, fully on instinct. You held him back, clutching him against you like a lifeline.

You thought he would slip out of you once he was down from his high, but he didn’t. He simply held you to him, sweaty and desperate, letting himself soften inside of you. It was as if he didn’t want to leave. 

“Thank you, love,” he kissed you again, shuddering yet powerful. 

“It’s nice to have you home, John,” you smiled, letting his soft laughter warm your heart, basking in it like the sun. 

[luveline]

Gah, your Peter Parker leaves me sighing in the best way every time! If you feel like it, could you write a little blurb of him melting from fondness when reader gets bashful following him doing/saying something soft? It’s so sweet, seeing two people mutually melt around and because of each other. Even when it’s the smallest thing, it means so much more when it’s from one of YOUR important people.

ty for your request! <3 fem

Fuck, Peter Parker thinks, jogging up the steps to your apartment building, this is the life. It’s a hot day in New York City but there are cold drinks to be had and that electric fan in your bedroom is calling his name. There’s genuinely no better place to be than laying on your sheets in pyjamas you wash with that apple blossom laundry softener he loves, knowing you keep using it ‘cos you love it, and knowing you wash his pyjamas because you love him. 

Spidering is going well, he saved a kid today who nearly got crushed by a ten tonner, so he’s feeling pretty good about himself, or at least feeling good about his decisions. He made Aunt May lunch and took it down to the hospital, he flirted gently with the older nurses, and now he’s gunning up the stairs to your apartment, every step a crinkle. 

Your door is wide open (awful) but you have good reason —the floors and the countertops shine. The windows are open, and the room is fragrant with your oil diffuser. You’re on your knees by the TV wiping down the table with a damp rag in loose-fitting clothes, sleeves pushed up, brows puckered. 

“Hey, baby,” he says. 

“Peter, I’m not talking to you today.” 

“Why’s that?” 

“You know how many pairs of your socks I found when I was cleaning today?” 

He grimaces. “Two?” 

“Nine pairs of socks, Peter.” 

He puts the flowers he’s brought you down on the coffee table and his back on the floor. He’d been hoping to do a grand unveiling of the bouquet to surprise you, but he feels terrible. “I don’t even know how that happens,” he mumbles dejectedly, kneeling down behind you, his arms threading in front of your tummy to give you a backwards squeeze. “They just disappear.” 

“They don’t, evidently.” 

“I’m really sorry.” He kisses your cheek. “I’m genuinely really sorry. That’s sloppy. I’m not a kid.” 

“No, you’re not… I’m not that mad though, you don’t have to sound so serious.” 

He holds the place just under your breastbone in his hands. “Oh, you’re not?” He tugs you to his front to stop you from moving prematurely and reaches blindly behind him for the flowers. You laugh as he tips back, taking you with him, the sound vibrating through you and into him. “That’s good. Don’t need these then, do we?” 

He twirls the bouquet, pressing it carefully to your chest. 

You immediately relax in his arms. He treasures that feeling, your weight leaning against him, your cheek listing down into his arm. You raise a hand, his arm trapped in the crook of your elbow as you examine the lilac petal of a sweetpea. “I love these ones.” 

“I know.” 

You take more time than anyone else would sifting through the flowers of the bouquet, breath the only evidence of your delight. You breathe out slowly whenever one of the flowers is particularly beautiful, and then you hug the bunch to your nose for a mild sniff. 

“Thank you.” 

Peter kisses your cheek. He savours the feeling of it, your skin under his lips, being that close to you, his hair on your forehead and your eyebrow tickling him as he hugs you just that little bit closer. “You’re welcome,” he murmurs, affection in every word, and a little drop of shyness too, “I was thinking of you, and they looked healthy for once, considering they’re off of the corner by Mandy’s.” 

“They’re so pretty,” you mumble, turning into him as much as you can. He lets up his tight hold. 

“Like you.” 

You brush your forehead against his chin. Peter actually gets goosebumps, letting the flowers fall to the floor by your leg so he can hold you. “I feel bad for caring about the socks now,” you mumble. 

He laughs with lips still closed and offers you a soft kiss. 

[marvelobsessed134]

Life imitates art

A/n: whewww this is one of my favorite things I ever written

Pairings: Beefy!Art Professor!Natasha x Fem!Student!Reader

Warnings: age gap (not specified), Nat has a dick, smut, blowjob, degradation, painting a nude person, reader being that nude person, pervy Nat (?), student/teacher dynamics

Okay so you’ve been failing your art class in college. But it’s really not your fault you’ve just been so caught up with your other classes that you’ve been slacking off.

And of course your professor noticed. Natasha knew she had to talk to you after class because you were one of her top students and now you’ve fallen off the deep end.

So after the lecture and after everyone leaves, leaving their canvases up to dry, the redhead calls you to stay after class.

You walked towards her desk with a nervous feeling in your stomach. You know you’re gonna get some kind of lecture of your own.

“Yes Professor Romanoff?” You asked in a sweet tone hoping you won’t be getting into any trouble with her. Not that she’s a mean professor per se but when a student fails she makes them do an extra project to get their grades up. It’s almost like she loves to torture people!

“Miss Y/n you’ve been failing very miserably in my class. Any particular reason why?” She asked.

You gulped, “Well…you see professor I’ve just been so caught up in my other classes that I’ve kind of been slacking on this one but-“

“So is my class not important to you?”

“No! It’s very important to me I love art and I love painting but I have these two big tests coming up so I haven’t had the time to finish my projects and you know I don’t do half assed work when it comes to my art.”

The redhead smiled a little bit at that, “Yes, which I do admire and appreciate but I’d like you to put more effort into my class.”

You looked down at your feet shamefully, “Yes Professor Romanoff.” You sounded like a scolded child.

“Well,” she stood up and walked over to her empty easel and put a large blank canvas on it. She also put a chair right behind it.

Then she walked back over to you. “You know how to get your grade up in my class. But instead of you painting I want you to be my model. Can you do that?”

The thought of you being her model made your flush, “I guess.”

“Great. Now strip off your clothes.”

“W-what?”

“You heard me. I’ve personally always wanted to have a live nude model in my presence to paint so nows my chance.”

“Professor Romanoff…this is highly inappropriate im your student plus you’re like a decade older than-“

“Do you want those grades or not detka?” The nickname gave you a shiver down your spine.

“Yes I do but-“

“Then do as I say and take your clothes off.” You quickly complied, shakily pulling your shirt over your head and unclasping your bra. Your shoes, socks, jeans, and panties came off next.

“Go sit on that chair over there.” She pointed to the chair that sat in front of the easel. You took a deep breath and walked over to sit down. Your arms resting on the armrests and your legs clenched together.

As Natasha got set up behind the easel she said, “Don’t hide your pretty pussy from me baby.” Your eyes widened at her words but you complied. Desperate for the grades, you slowly spread your legs. Unfortunately you were embarrassingly wet.

It’s no surprise you have a crush on your professor. She’s beefy with a pretty face and exudes dominance. Her shirt sleeves are always rolled up to her elbows and her slacks fit her perfectly. Along with the occasional blazer she wears.

Unbeknownst to you she noticed how wet your little cunt was and smirked.

She began to paint you, taking in every breathtaking detail of you.

You felt so vulnerable in this position. Sitting naked in front of your fully clothed professor as she painted your naked form.

She didn’t even bother to try to hide the erection in her pants, because she knew you felt the same way about her. It was only a matter of time before she could finally taste you and have her way with you.

Once she had gotten most of the painting down-she can finish it later she will remember every inch of your body-she walked over to you.

You sat up straighter, not daring to close your legs. Natasha towered over you and looked down at your pretty perky nipples and your wet pussy.

“I think my model needs a reward for being such a good girl don’t you think?” She asked and you sucked in a breath.

She tilted your chin up with her index finger, “Yes or no babygirl.”

Oh you knew it was wrong so, so wrong. But you found yourself saying, “Yes.” It came out as a whisper you were surprised she even heard it.

The redhead smirked, “That’s what I thought.” She got down on her knees, her hands sliding up your bare legs before she licked a bold strip against your pussy. You moaned, throwing your head back at the little piece of friction you just got.

“If my student didn’t want to get naked for me then…why is she so soaking wet?” As she said this she ran her finger up your folds. You hissed in response.

“I know you’ve wanted me since the first day of class. Don’t worry, I want you too.” She kissed the inside of your thigh before licking your folds again, eating you out with such passion that you forgot where you were.

Her mouth attached itself to your clit and you gripped her hair tightly as she sent you closer and closer to the edge before you drenched her face with your release.

“Oh god!” You moaned breathlessly.

“You taste so good detka. Care to return the favor?” She asked with a cocky smile. You immediately got on your knees in front of her and unbuckled her pants, pulling them and her boxers down to free her large cock.

Your eyes widened at the size and you wrapped your hand around her shaft and began to jerk her off.

“I wanna see those pretty lips around my cock baby.” She commanded dryly.

You gulped before wrapping your lips around the tip and sinking down onto it, bobbing your head up and down and jerking off whatever you couldn’t fit in your mouth.

Natasha gripped your hair as you sucked her off. “Such a slut for me huh. Who knew you’d be so eager to taste my dick.” Your pussy was dripping onto the floor both from your previous orgasm and your arousal at the mere action of sucking her cock.

“Shit baby I’m gonna cum.” Your professor moaned before shooting her load down your throat. “Ah fuck that’s it swallow it.”

You swallowed it all and pulled of her cock, opening your mouth to show her you did in fact take it.

She caressed your chin, “Such a good girl. Come over here.” She made her way to the chair you were once sitting on and sat down. Her cock still sticking up in the air. She unbuttoned her shirt and pulled it off revealing her abs. Your mouth watered at the sight and you quickly made your way over to her.

The older woman smirked, “Ride my cock baby.” It was a simple command that you were more than happy to obey.

You straddled her waist and sunk down on her thick cock, moaning at the stretch.

“God you’re so tight.” She hissed as she gripped your hips and started moving you up and down her length, treating you like her own personal toy.

You were a moaning mess, rolling your eyes at the back of your head as she continuously hit your g spot. “Oh fuck professor! Feels so good!”

“Yeah? Oh god who knew my student wanted to be slutted out so bad.” She also thrusted her hips up as she moved you. Your hands gripped her muscular shoulders.

The only sounds that could be heard in the room were the sounds of skin slapping, moans, and grunts.

“I’m gonna cum again fuuuuck.” You cried.

“Cum again for me sweetie.” You reached down to rub your clit as you were sent to a land of ecstasy.

You clenched around her cock and your vision went white for a second. You absolutely drenched her cock.

“Oh yeah drench my fucking cock. I’m gonna cum again.” She quickly pulled out of you and forced you on your knees. You watched as she jerked herself off till she came on your tits.

“Holy fuck. You’re unbelievable.” Natasha breathed and you giggled.

“Did I get the grade?”

“Oh yeah you got the grade. And if you keep this up then you’ll be passing every exam too.”

[sserpente]

A Routine Check-Up (Kinktober #2)

Your phone buzzed. A message from Zayne showed on the display.

Your bi-annual gynaecological health exam is due. Can you come in this week?

A/N: *cough* I'm just gonna leave this here. Have fun!

Words: 2578 Warnings: you guessed it—smut ;)

Your bi-annual gynaecological health exam is due. Please schedule an appointment with your primary physician as soon as possible.

Oh. Your heart skipped a beat when you read the message that popped up on your Hunter’s Watch. Damn it all, you’d rather fight a horde of Wanderers than put yourself through that. You were, of course, very well aware of how important these regular check-ups were. Under any circumstances, they wouldn’t be a problem. But it wasn’t just any doctor that—

Your phone buzzed and you pulled it out of your pocket. A message from Zayne showed on the display.

Your bi-annual gynaecological health exam is due. Can you come in this week?

Alright then…the sooner you made an appointment, the sooner you could get this over with. You weren’t necessarily nervous about the exam itself; it was uncomfortable, sure but other than that… Ugh. It was the fact it was Dr. Zayne—your Dr. Zayne—who would be performing it. There was something you’d wanted to bring up. A little problem, so to speak.

Sure thing, Dr. Zayne! I’ll be off the clock tomorrow afternoon?

He read it. Mere seconds later, the three dots indicating he was typing a reply popped up at the bottom of your screen.

Come see me at my office at 5 PM then.

Right. You’d do that. You glanced at your bathroom door. Perhaps you should get trimmed a little down there before that.

Thinking about anything other than that fateful exam in the evening, you spent the whole day whiling away. The pile of paperwork—reports on Wanderers you defeated and the Protocores you’d retrieved—didn’t grow any smaller.

Damn it, you’d feel more comfortable walking straight into the N109 zone rather than Zayne’s office. You hesitated when you finally stood before his door, your fist hovering mid-air. You’d count to then and then you’d knock.

One, two, three, four, five…with a start, the door opened, revealing Dr. Zayne in his usual medical attire. He was wearing his glasses and he looked a bit tired around the eyes. Perhaps he hadn’t slept well either. Presumably, however, not for the same reasons as you.

You smiled. “Hello, Dr. Zayne.”

“Come on in.” Reciprocating your smile, he stepped aside. He’d already prepared the room. Normally, these types of exams were conducted in the treatment rooms but given you were a Hunter and Dr. Zayne was your primary care physician, no such arrangements had been necessary.

You took a deep breath, eyeing the gynaecological chair he’d set up.

“You seem nervous. Are you alright?”

“Me? Nervous? N-no, why would I be?”

Zayne tilted his head. His scrutinising gaze was full of worry—it often was when you discussed your health with him. “I’ve been doing your gynaecological health exams for many years now. You were never nervous before. What changed?”

Many years ago I wasn’t in love with you yet, you thought. Besides, we still haven’t talked about that kiss the other night…

“I guess I’m just a little anxious,” you lied, “Tara told me they found two cysts in one of her friends’ ovaries once.”

Zayne frowned. It was the last thing you saw before you moved behind the makeshift medical curtain to undress. Your skirt came off, and your panties soon followed.

“Have you been experiencing any pain or abnormalities?”

“I haven’t.”

“Then I don’t see any reason for worry. Have you been tracking your menstruation?”

“I have.” Timidly, you reappeared from behind the curtain and tiptoed over to the chair in your socks.

“Anything out of the ordinary? Any bad cramps or other symptoms?”

You shook your head. “No.”

“Alright then. Sit down on the chair for me so we can begin.” He was always so calm, so reassuring, so…collected. Come to think of it, you had never seen him lose his temper. Even that one time he was so angry at you for dismissing yourself from the hospital early he’d been quiet—almost eerily so. It was a trait that drove you mad in the best ways possible.

Biting your lower lip, you climbed on the gynaecological chair and crossed your fingers over your belly, scooting forward until Zayne had you where he needed you. You watched him prepare a speculum and cover it in lube, his hands hidden by a pair of medical gloves.

Your heart was pounding when he moved between your legs. Knowing that this wasn’t the first time he was seeing you…down there and that there was nothing to worry about barely helped your situation.

It was different this time. You longed for his touch, longed for his presence. But…you took a deep breath when Zayne inserted the speculum into your opening slowly and carefully. But if he could stay professional, then so could you.

“I’m going to do your pap smear first. It might feel a little uncomfortable.”

You hummed by way of a response, bracing yourself. Zayne was so gentle you barely felt anything though. You almost closed your eyes. Almost.

“Alright…” he said when he was done. “Everything looks normal. No infections, no discolouration…” You were pretty certain he was talking to himself and working through a protocol in his head. You nodded regardless, resisting the urge to flinch when his hand grazed your outer lips when he removed the speculum again.

“I am going to feel inside you now to check for any abnormalities. I need you to tell me if anything hurts.”

“O-Okay.” Shit, he was going to do what now? You bit your lower lip when he inserted to fingers into your warmth. They slid inside with ease due to the lube he’d used earlier…although at this point you weren’t so sure anymore if it was just the lube that helped him.

Zayne pressed down gently on various parts of your lower body, supporting his movements by placing his palm on your abdomen.

“You’re breathing heavily. Are you in pain?”

“No. No, I’m fine, Dr. Zayne!”

“Hmm…” He paused as if he couldn’t decide whether he believed you or not. “Alright. Let’s do the ultrasound and then we’re almost done.”

You nodded yet again and pressed your lips together to a thin line.

You almost whined at the loss of his fingers inside of you. The ultrasound wand wrapped in a condom didn’t feel nearly as nice when he inserted it, his gaze fixed on the little screen next to the chair.

“Your ovaries look healthy…I can see no cysts. Your bladder looks fine too and your uterus…yes. Everything’s alright.”

He looked at you and blinked once, eliciting a shy smile from you. Good god…it was almost over.

Zayne removed the ultrasound wand and began to clean it up. “Do you have any questions for me? Or perhaps…” He hesitated. “Are you planning on getting any birth control?”

“D-Do I have to run that by you if I do?”

“Not all birth control pills or other methods might be compatible with the medication you need for your Protocore Syndrome.”

“I see��no, I…I don’t think I need anything…right now.”

“Alright. You can sit up. If you’d just remove your shirt for me so I can check your breasts for any knots…”

Your eyes widened. “Oh yeah! O-of course.”

Shit. You’d give anything to have Zayne caress your breasts under different circumstances. Embarrassment due to your obvious romantic affinity for him aside, you almost wished…

You sighed and did as you were told. Timidly, you lifted your shirt and kept your arms tucked in.

“That…that is not going to work, I’ll need to feel the side of your breasts too. Perhaps it’d be best if you remove it completely. I know it’s a little cool in my office, it won’t be for long.”

It’s not about the cold, Dr. Zayne. It’s not about the cold.

“S-Sure.”

You pulled your shirt over your head quickly. You hadn’t bothered to wear a bra today knowing the exam was due, and it was just easier that way. You were left wearing only your skirt before him now, your nails digging into the soft leather of the gynaecological chair and almost tearing the protective cover on top of it.

Zayne’s expression remained stoic. After putting on a fresh pair of medical gloves, he examined your breasts one by one. Your chest was heaving.

“Have you noticed anything unusual?”

“What? Uh, no, no, nothing unusual.”

“Good.” He retreated. “That concludes the exam. Are you sure you don’t have any questions?”

Yes. No. God, you couldn’t ask him what’d been on your mind for the past months…could you? Not anymore, not now that you and he…

A shiver went through you when he said your name—calmly but sternly. “Do you remember when I asked you to always be honest with me, especially when it comes to your health?”

“I do but—”

“But what?”

You felt your eyes heating up and sucked your lips between your teeth. “It’s…it’s embarrassing… Doctor Zayne, perhaps…perhaps I should be speaking to a female physician or a nurse about…this?”

“So there is something that troubles you.” He spoke your name yet again and damn it all, you wished he would stop being so considerate and caring for a moment. That would make things a lot easier for you right now. “Even if you do speak about this with a female physician, they are obligated to enter all accumulated data into your e-file. As your primary care physician, I have access to that file. Whenever something gets added, I am either the one who entered it or the first one to find out.”

“O-oh…”

“Tell me what’s wrong.” He placed his hands on your bare knees, his gaze respectfully glued to your eyes rather than your exposed sex right before him. “There is nothing you need to be ashamed of around me.”

“Zayne, I…just…I’ve been having trouble, uh…well…getting there lately.” Oh god, this was so embarrassing. Where was this pit to swallow you whole that everyone always talked about? You felt like you were in some cheap porn movie…

“Getting there?” He sounded genuine. Great. You had to spell it out.

“I’ve been having trouble…reaching orgasm when I…you know.”

Zayne remained quiet for a moment. Not a single emotion escaped his neutral expression—you did not, however, miss the slight twitching of his jaw.

“Prolonged stress can impact the ability to relax enough for acceptance, for lack of a better word, of sexual stimulation,” he began matter-of-factly, “and ever since you finished training at the Hunter’s Academy, your stress levels have almost constantly been alarmingly high.”

“How do you know that?”

“Heart rate variability analysis and regular hormonal testing during your monthly check-ups.”

“Ah…But…a-are you sure it’s just that? I’ve…I’ve tried everything. I even bought…” A vibrator. You stopped yourself and bit your lower lip.

“If you are worried about any physical causes, I can take a look. But, your Protocore Syndrome aside, you are healthy. It is highly unlikely you are affected by Anorgasmia or similar orgasmic dysfunctions that I have missed to diagnose. Have you always struggled? Or have you been able to bring yourself to climax before?”

You didn’t need to see yourself in the mirror to know you were as red as a tomato at this point. “I…no, this did start a while after I passed my Hunter’s exam…”

Zayne nodded. “There you have it. But if you want to be sure, I can go through a couple of tests with you.”

“T-tests?”

Another nod. “To make sure there are no physical restrictions to your ability to feel pleasure.”

Your lips parted. You…didn’t know you’d needed to hear the word pleasure out of Zayne’s mouth. But even so…this annoying little problem had been on your mind for weeks. What if there was something wrong with you? Something new that neither Zayne nor you had yet discovered?

“Then…then let’s do the tests. I want to be sure it’s nothing serious. How… How will you be doing that?”

“The best way would be through direct stimulation of the erogenous zones. We’ll work from there.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

“Sit back on the chair for me.”

You obliged and watched him mutely. Zayne applied some of the lube he’d used earlier to his thumb and moved back between your legs. You spread them wider hesitantly. With your heart in your mouth, you bit down hard on your lower lip when he pressed his thumb against your clit and began to caress it with slow and deliberate circular motions, his fingers cupping your pubic mound.

A gasp escaped your lips before you could stop yourself.

“You are responding right away. That is a good sign.”

Fuck…it…it did feel good. So good. Too good. So much better than when it was your fingers playing with your pussy. Perhaps it wasn’t the stress after all. Perhaps it was the fact that you were longing. For him. Perhaps your thirst could not be quenched unless it was…with him?

But…no! You couldn’t possibly…exploit him like that…he was…genuinely caring and…wanted…to make sure that…fuck…

Zayne applied a bit more pressure.

To make sure that…you were okay…he…he…

There was no way to hold back a moan when he used his other hand to slide two fingers inside of you. He curled them just right, quickly finding what he was looking for. And as he started stimulating your g-spot, you realised that it indeed wasn’t the lube that made you wet, receptive and responsive.

Zayne looked up, his lips slightly parted. Surprise reflected in his hazel green eyes—almost as if he caught himself…enjoying your reactions. Could…could that be?

He kept going nonetheless but his gaze now remained fixed on you, watching you intently.

“Z-Zayne…” You knew what you wanted to tell him. You knew what was going to happen. He knew that too, it seemed.

“It’s alright. Let go.”

“I…oh…oh God…Zayne…” You couldn’t have disobeyed the doctor’s orders even if you had wanted to. You came undone around his fingers, your tight walls clenching around him rhythmically as your orgasm washed over you. You arched your back, bucking your hips to meet his attentive touches. Zayne did not let up. He kept his hands on you to help you ride out every last wave of pleasure he’d bestowed on you.

Your eyes locked with his once you came down from your high, embarrassment crawling up your spine. But Zayne…he was breathing heavily. His eyes were glazed as if…had…had this aroused him too? You didn’t dare look down for evidence.

“There. Are you okay?” he asked gently.

“I…I am. I…”

“It’s the stress that is keeping you from relaxing without a doubt. I…I believe I might have to describe more of this treatment to you just to be sure.” Wait, what? “Especially given how the excessive release of endorphins during an orgasm can help reduce stress levels.” He chuckled. He actually chuckled!

“I…you…we…” It was no use. You were at a loss for words.

“You were my last patient for today,” Zayne announced. “Let me drive you home.”

You nodded, still dazed from what had just happened. Your cheeks were flushed, your ears hot. Between your legs, there was a waterfall you’d have to bring back under control before you put your panties back on.

This evening was far from over. Because if there was one thing you knew despite both your twisted emotions and feelings for one another, this bi-annual gynaecological check-up had just moved your relationship to a new level.

[reachartwork]

how to write fight scenes

many people have told me that Chum has good fight scenes. a small subset of those people have asked me on advice for how to write fight scenes. i am busy procrastinating, so i have distilled my general ethos on fight scenes into four important points. followed by a homework assignment.

Fight scenes take place on two axii - the physical and the intellectual. For the most interesting fight scenes, neither character should have a full inventory of the other's abilities, equipment, fighting style, etc. This gives you an opportunity to pull out surprises, but, more importantly, turns each fight into a jockeying of minds, as all characters involved have to puzzle out what's going on in real time. This is especially pertinent for settings with power systems. It feels more earned if the characters are trying to deduce the limitations and reach of the opponent's power rather than the opponent simply explaining it to them (like in Bleach. Don't do that). 1a. Have characters be incorrect in their assumptions sometimes, leading to them making mistakes that require them to correct their internal models of an opponent under extreme pressure. 1b. If you really have to have a character explain their powers to someone there should be a damn good reason for it. The best reason is "they are lying". The second best reason is "their power requires it for some reason".

Make sure your blows actually have weight. When characters are wailing at each other for paragraphs and paragraphs and nothing happens, it feels like watching rock 'em sock 'em robots. They beat each other up, and then the fight ends with a decisive blow. Not interesting! Each character has goals that will influence what their victory condition is, and each character has a physical body that takes damage over the course of a fight. If someone is punched in the gut and coughs up blood, that's an injury! It should have an impact on them not just for the fight but long term. Fights that go longer than "fist meets head, head meets floor" typically have a 'break-down' - each character getting sloppier and weaker as they bruise, batter, and break their opponent, until victory is achieved with the last person standing. this keeps things tense and interesting.

I like to actually plan out my fight scenes beat for beat and blow for blow, including a: the thought process of each character leading to that attempted action, b: what they are trying to do, and c: how it succeeds or fails. In fights with more than two people, I like to use graph paper (or an Excel spreadsheet with the rows turned into squares) to keep track of positions and facings over time.

Don't be afraid to give your characters limitations, because that means they can be discovered by the other character and preyed upon, which produces interesting ebbs and flows in the fight. A gunslinger is considerably less useful in a melee with their gun disarmed. A swordsman might not know how to box if their sword is destroyed. If they have powers, consider what they have to do to make them activate, if it exhausts them to use, how they can be turned off, if at all. Consider the practical applications. Example: In Chum, there are many individuals with pyrokinetic superpowers, and none of them have "think something on fire" superpowers. Small-time filler villain Aaron McKinley can ignite anything he's looking at, and suddenly the fight scenes begin constructing themselves, as Aaron's eyes and the direction of his gaze become an incredibly relevant factor.

if you have reached this far in this essay I am giving you homework. Go watch the hallway fight in Oldboy and then novelize it. Then, watch it again every week for the rest of your life, and you will become good at writing fight scenes.

as with all pieces of advice these are not hard and fast rules (except watching the oldboy hallway fight repeatedly) but general guidelines to be considered and then broken when it would produce an interesting outcome to do so.

okay have a good day. and go read chum.

[fandoms-x-reader]

Body Swapping

Inspired By: @ricaaathelittlelamb

Headcannons

Summary: In one way or another, Solomon is trying to perform a spell when something goes wrong and you end up body-swapping with one of the demon brothers. While you're in their body, you get a first-hand look of what it's like to live with their sin and it brings you closer to them (individually).

Lucifer was in a very important meeting with Lord Diavolo and demanded that no funny business go on at the House of Lamentation while he was gone.

Which of course meant that funny business had to occur. It was a must.

At least that was the excuse Belphie and Satan gave you as they led you to the library where Solomon was already waiting for the three of you. 

“What exactly are you planning?” you asked, giving them a suspicious look.

“Just a simple transformation spell,” Satan replied, but you could see the sinister look in their eyes.

“So, have you decided on what it’ll be then?” Solomon asked the two brothers. They shared a look with each other before Satan replied, “A sheep.”

“A sheep?” you questioned and when Satan locked eyes with you, you understood what he meant. They were going to turn Lucifer into a sheep while he was in the meeting with Lord Diavolo.

“He’ll be absolutely humiliated,” Belphie added, a sinister chuckle escaping his lips. Bad idea.

“How are you even going to perform a curse like that?” you questioned and Solomon held up one of Lucifer’s socks. 

Come to think of it, Lucifer had recently been asking you if you had seen his socks.

“We just needed an item of his,” Solomon replied, beginning to gather the ingredients together.

“And why exactly are you helping them, Solomon?” you questioned curiously. Solomon gave you a happy smile before answering, “I have my reasons.” As mysterious as ever.

You sat back and watched as Solomon said the incantation. Clearly, they were all determined to perform this spell and nothing you said would change their minds. 

You watched as the smoke filled the room, blocking out nearly everything in sight and when it disappeared you were seated in the assembly hall in front of Lord Diavolo and Barbatos.

“Diavolo?” you questioned, furrowing your eyebrows. “Yes, Lucifer?” Diavolo asked in return giving you a curious look. Lucifer?

You looked down at your body and mentally cursed. Of course, Solomon messed up the spell. You had to bite your lip from laughing at the mental image of Lucifer in your body, standing in front of the Anti-Lucifer League and their honorary member as he finds out what they did.

As angry as you were, you knew Belphie and Satan would be upset if you passed up the opportunity to find out information only Lucifer would know.

“Diavolo,” you said, sitting up a bit more as you locked eyes with him. “I have to know - what do you really think of me?” you questioned with an innocent smile.

Diavolo was taken aback by your question but a large smile soon spread across his face as he replied, “I think you’re wonderful. You’re an excellent leader and a loyal friend.”

As Diavolo spoke you felt a deep sense of gratification. No, not gratitude - pride. It was an amazing feeling. 

A graceful smile broke across your lips as you silently pleaded with Lord Diavolo to continue his praises.

Diavolo opened his mouth to continue speaking when the door to the assembly room suddenly burst open and a very angry-looking “you” came walking through the door.

“Lord Diavolo, do not say another word,” your body stated and both he and Barbatos looked at you as if you had lost your mind. The audacity. 

But then Diavolo looked at you closer and he understood what was happening. “Y/N, I see that you’re just as charming in your body as you are in Lucifer’s,” Diavolo stated, looking somewhat amused by the situation.

Your body walked forward as if to come lecture you when suddenly the room filled with smoke and you were back in your body. You were teleported to the House of Lamentation before Lucifer had a chance to scold you thanks to Solomon who figured it was the least he could do. 

When Lucifer got back to the House of Lamentation, the lecture was a long one. You had tried to explain that technically you were a victim as well. But, he pointed out that it didn’t stop you from taking advantage of his body to gain information from Diavolo.

After the first hour, you had grown bored and decided to use what you had found out about Lucifer to your advantage. 

“Is there anything else you’d like to say for yourselves?” Lucifer questioned, his gaze narrowing. “You’re really great at giving lectures, Lucifer,” you replied. Satan and Belphie looked at you like you had just grown another head while Lucifer stared at you in shock. He didn’t expect that.

“What?” he asked, more to himself than anything else. “It’s just the way you reprimand with so much passion - it makes me really respect you,” you replied nonchalantly.

Satan and Belphie realized it was a trick. Lucifer knew it was a trick. Yet, he couldn’t help the swell in his heart. Lucifer sent one more glare to his younger brothers before asking them to leave.

You, however, were going to have to pay for stopping his lecture short. And you did so by sitting next to Lucifer and giving him praises as you held his hand or gently ran your fingers through his hair. You started this game and now you were “suffering the consequences”.

Except it didn’t feel like a consequence to either of you and you were actually glad to have some alone time with Lucifer. Especially when you got to see his eyes glowing blue with pride as he gave you a smile full of love.

Mammon felt an indescribable need to be around you almost all the time. It didn’t matter where you were going or what you were doing - Mammon wanted to be there.

Which is how he got stuck in the lab with you and Solomon while you were trying to create a spell. 

The two of you were partners in a class and had to perform a specific curse in order to pass the assignment. 

You were in charge of reading the instructions to Solomon and he was the one actually putting the ingredients together since he had more practice at spells.

And Mammon was being completely unhelpful as he sat next to you, bored out of his mind.

“How long is this gonna take?” Mammon asked, looking over your shoulder to read from the spellbook in your hands.

“If you’re bored, you can leave. You’re not the one who has to do the assignment,” you replied with a small smile.

“And leave ya’ alone with Solomon. You’re just askin’ for a death sentence,” Mammon replied, making you chuckle.

You told Solomon the next ingredient to add and then Mammon took the book out of your hand. “Lemme help,” Mammon told you, reading down the page and telling Solomon the next few ingredients. 

“See, it goes faster if you tell him more things at once,” Mammon stated and you playfully rolled your eyes at Mammon, taking the book back and giving Solomon the last ingredient after the one Mammon said.

Things got fuzzy as Solomon added the last ingredient and the next thing you remembered was staring at yourself, both of you looking very confused.

“Now see this is what I meant! This is why I can’t leave ya’ alone with Solomon. He turned you into another me!” your body said and it was obvious who it actually was inside.

“Not exactly,” you replied. Mammon turned to look at you confused and you motioned towards your body. Mammon’s cheeks turned a deep shade as he realized he was in your body.

He was doing everything he could not to look down at your body. Just because it was him in it didn’t mean it wasn’t your body and we all know he had a big weakness when it came to you.

Mammon glared at Solomon who immediately responded with a smile. “Why don’t the two of you go shopping for a bit I’ll have a cure by the time you come back!” Solomon suggested, leading you both to the door.

Mammon hesitantly agreed and you followed him around town, looking through the windows of the different shops.

It didn’t take long for you to find something that you wanted and as you entered the shop, you slowly began to feel more and more greedy as you grabbed random things that you didn’t need but wanted.

Mammon had walked around the store as well and was wondering why he didn’t want a single thing. Was there something wrong with him?

Then he saw you with your arms full of stuff and he understood what was happening.  Your eyes had a familiar gold glint to them and Mammon couldn’t help but admire you from afar. Was it bad to enjoy watching you indulge in his sin?

He didn’t have the heart to tell you that you couldn’t get what you wanted. He would give you the world if he could. So he simply fronted the bill, knowing he would regret it later.

Luckily, Solomon approached the two of you before you could enter another store. He quickly said the spell that undid the effects of the curse and you were thankful to be in your own body.

Then you saw Mammon standing there, holding the bags of stuff you had just bought and an intense wave of guilt crashed down on you. 

“Mammon…come on, maybe they’ll let us return the items since we didn’t fully leave,” you told him, gently taking his hand to lead him back to the store.

Mammon gave you a soft smile before replying, “No, it’s okay. These are all things that ya’ wanted.”

“But, I don’t need them,” you argued, trying once again to lead him back to the store. Mammon let out a small sigh before saying, “Would ya’ just let me spoil you for once.”

You were taken aback by his words and your heart melted as you saw him looking down at the ground with a small blush on his cheeks. He just wanted to do something nice.

You couldn’t take this away from him. “Alright, then you deserve a thank you,” you replied, giving him a chaste kiss that only made him blush harder.

Thanks to the mishap, it was easy for you to understand how greed can overpower you and lead to some bad choices. But those bad choices can sometimes lead to good things. 

Levi had only wanted to replicate a spell that he saw in one of his anime. 

The spell was completely harmless. It was meant to bring a stuffed animal of your choosing to life. A simple animation spell.

He requested the help of Solomon who - after much begging from the Avatar of Envy - agreed to help. 

And of course, Levi had to invite his player two along as well. He wouldn’t want you to miss out on all of the fun!

So now the three of you were standing in a circle around a Ruri-Chan stuffed animal. Levi had sent her longing gazes as Solomon prepared for the spell and you couldn’t help but notice them. He really was obsessed with her.

Levi handed Solomon the instructions on how to perform the spell. And Solomon read them step by step, following them down to the detail. 

Except, clearly he didn’t do something right as you and Levi were now in each other’s bodies. 

You let out a small gasp as you and Levi locked eyes, the two of you understanding the predicament you were now in.

Levi was a blushing mess as he tried to back away from the two of you, only to stumble to the ground. “Ow!” Levi exclaimed as he hit the hard floor. 

“Levi, are you okay?” you questioned. It didn’t seem like a hard fall, but from the way he acted, you would think he fell down the stairs.

“Normie bodies are so weak,” Levi pouted as he looked back up at you. You looked over at Solomon who was looking confused as he read over the instructions. 

“Levi, what spellbook did you get these instructions from?” Solomon questioned. He was sure he had done the spell right.

“Spellbook? I got it off the fan page for the anime,” Levi replied as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

“Wait - this wasn’t a real spell?!” you questioned as you turned to look at Levi. 

“It’s a real spell - it’s just not what Levi wanted. These were instructions for a body-swapping spell,” Solomon replied.

“You don’t say,” you responded sarcastically, giving Solomon a slightly irritated look. “If you knew it was a body-swapping spell, then why did you say it?” you asked him.

“I honestly wasn’t paying attention to the spell because I didn’t think it would work,” Solomon replied. 

You turned to talk to Levi when you saw him cradling his Ruri-chan plush in his hands. You felt a spark of envy inside of you, but you did your best to calm yourself down. Were you really jealous of a plush? Still, sometimes you couldn’t help but wish Levi looked at you like that.

“Someday I’ll make you mine,” he said barely above a whisper as he held the plush to his chest and you felt yourself lose control. It was like a ball of fire built up inside of you as Levi’s tail suddenly snatched the plush from your body and threw it across the room.

“Hey!” Levi said, turning to scold you but he stopped in his tracks when he saw the way your eyes were glowing orange. Were you jealous?

Levi was a bit excited at the idea of you being jealous of the doll just because Levi had been hugging it close to him. 

He didn’t have time to relish in the feeling though as Solomon quickly reversed the spell. 

When you were back in your body, your gaze met Levi’s and a deep blush coated your cheeks. You knew that you had only reacted that way because you were in Levi’s body, but it didn’t change how you felt about Levi and you couldn’t help but feel like you had just exposed your true feelings.

Levi isn’t good at taking advantage of situations, so unfortunately for him, you left before he could say anything else.

But, he does pay attention more to you when the two of you are hanging out instead of his figures. He knows the difference between reality and fiction and he didn’t want to lose someone who was real to his fantasies.

Part of him did like seeing his sin on you though, so he’s not opposed to trying to make you jealous again with his love for his anime characters. Especially if you had spent too much time that day with his brothers.

You were falling a bit behind on the curses and hexes portion of your classes. Solomon had offered to help you after class and since Satan was well-versed in the area as well, he decided to help too.

You sat next to Satan as Solomon demonstrated how to do the curse you were working on. “And then you add this ingredient in and it’s done!” Solomon said with a proud smile.

“Wait, did you add the-?” Satan tried to ask but it was too late. Smoke filled the air as you suddenly felt dizzy.

You opened your eyes and let out a small gasp as you saw yourself looking right back at you. “What’s going on?” you asked, but your voice was different.

You looked down and recognized the clothes you were wearing. A blush coated both of your cheeks as you realized what had happened. “Solomon - you didn’t,” you said, looking up at the sorcerer.

“It looks like I forgot an ingredient,” Solomon replied a bit sheepishly. 

“Aren’t you supposed to be a great sorcerer?” Satan asked him. Hearing your voice when you weren’t in your body was throwing you for a loop and only added to the irritation that was currently building.

“I am a great sorcerer,” Solomon argued and you felt your chest tightening. Solomon opened his mouth to say something but you cut him off.

“Just fix it,” you snapped at him, your eyes beginning to glow green from your frustration. 

You felt someone place their hand in yours, and you turned to see it was yourself. Well, Satan. Even though it was your body, he had a strong presence and it still comforted you.

He knew his anger well. He knew how easy it was to set him off. He had centuries of practice and he still loses control. So he could only imagine how you were feeling.

He, on the other hand, was feeling amazing. He felt perfectly content and it reminded him of the time he spent with you. When he was in his body, that was the only time he felt content. 

And as much as his anger was a hindrance at times, Satan was grateful for it. If he felt happy all of the time, then he was afraid that he wouldn’t consider his time with you as special. 

Was that how you felt? Satan was now overthinking things. If you felt that content all the time, then being around him wouldn’t make a difference right? Not in the same way it made a difference for him.

“Okay, done!” Solomon suddenly said and the room once again filled with smoke. You let out a breath of relief as you looked down and saw that you were back in your body. 

You gave Satan a smile and he returned it, but you noticed there was a hidden emotion behind his eyes. 

“Well, I think that’s enough studying for one day,” Solomon stated before leaving the room with his items. 

You turned to face Satan who seemed to be lost in thought. “I think I should just stick with you teaching me next time,” you told him with a smile, hoping to lighten the mood.

Satan let out a small half-hearted laugh as he replied, “It’d certainly be less risky.” You could still see thoughts running through his mind. 

Just as you were about to ask him what was wrong, he spoke up.

“Do all humans feel that content?” Satan asked curiously, bringing his eyes to yours. You were a bit surprised by his question.

“I mean, how is anything supposed to make you happy if you’re always happy,” Satan added, further explaining his question. 

“Well, being content is different than being happy. Just because I feel content doesn’t mean there aren’t things that can make me more happy or give me butterflies,” you answered.

You had an idea of what Satan was getting at. An unspoken thing between the two of you. Something that was always felt but never talked about it.

“Butterflies?” Satan questioned. He had read many books on humans, but he had never heard of a feeling that resembled an insect.

“Like this,” you responded, gently placing your lips on his. Satan was surprised but immediately responded to the kiss, gently pulling you closer. 

When you pulled away, the two of you locked eyes and he understood what he was feeling.

Butterflies.

“I’m thinking - matching colors,” Asmo told you as he gently grabbed your hands in his, inspecting your nails.

“Asmo, I told you, she needs her hands to perform this spell,” Solomon replied and Asmo let out a small sigh. 

Solomon was trying to teach you how to do a particular spell but Asmo had wanted to spend some time with you because he hadn’t seen you all day.

The two of them argued for a good ten minutes about which was more important when you finally had enough and told them you would do both.

So here you were, sitting on Asmo’s bed as he painted his nails while Solomon was doing his best to instruct you how to do the spell.

“She only needs one hand at a time,” Asmo replied, letting go of one of your hands as he began painting the nails of the one he still had in his grasp.

Solomon wasn’t completely pleased but accepted it. At least you could use one of your hands. It was definitely less efficient, but sometimes there was no arguing with Asmo.

“Okay, now, hold out your hand and repeat after me,” Solomon told you. You looked at the item in front of you. It was one of Asmo’s hand mirrors and you were trying to do a transformation spell to turn it into an apple.

The spell would only last five to ten minutes since it was your first time performing it. But the more you did it, the longer the effects would last.

“Ego praecipio ut convertas in malum,” Solomon stated. You nodded your head, letting him know that you got the phrase.

“Ego praecipio ut convertas in-Asmo!” you shouted as he suddenly gave you a small tickle.

“Sorry, dear, you just looked so cute with that serious sorcerer look,” Asmo replied with a small smile as the room suddenly began to fill with smoke.

Solomon gave you a worried look as things went hazy for a moment. “What just happened?” you asked for a moment and suddenly you heard a squeal from beside you.

“There are two of me!” Asmo shouted as he pulled you into his arms. You looked to Solomon for help and he told you, “The spell that you said translates to - ‘I command that you turn into…’ and since you finished that statement with Asmo’s name, it seems the two of you switched bodies.”

Asmo - in your body - looked at Solomon confused and then looked at you in his body before finally looking down at himself.

His eyes lit up as he recognized the opportunity that had presented itself. “Okay, Solomon, thanks for coming by, see you later!” Asmo told Solomon as he gently pushed him out of the room before closing the door. 

“Asmo-,” you tried to scold, but Asmo stopped with a small pout on his lips. “Y/N, this is a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity! We have to take advantage of it!” Asmo said with a smile as he sat back down next to you on the bed.

And you wanted to continue your lecture, but your mind was currently being overwhelmed. You could somehow sense Asmo’s attraction to you and it was strong.

You tried to think clearly as Asmo got closer to you, gently stroking your cheek. The idea of kissing yourself was strange to think about. And while you were somewhat bothered by it, Asmo was completely turned on at the idea of kissing himself. 

And his excitement only made you grow more excited thanks to you being stuck in Asmo’s body. 

You were being overwhelmed with lust and even if he was in your body, the fact was that you had feelings for Asmo that were only making things that much harder. You wondered if Asmo constantly had to fight these feelings when he was around you.

Asmo could see that your eyes had a pink glow to them and he couldn’t help but smile. He knew exactly how you were feeling right now and it was driving him crazy.

You looked into your own eyes as Asmo moved to close the gap between your lips.

Just before they touched, the effects of the spell wore off and you were both returned to your own bodies. You melted into the kiss a bit, glad that you were kissing Asmo instead of yourself and when you opened your eyes to look at him, you saw the same pink glowing in his eyes that had been glowing in yours moments before.

Asmo gave you a small smile as he ran a finger over your bottom lip. He looked up at you with hopeful eyes before saying, “Just because we switched back, it doesn’t mean the fun has to stop, right?”

Of all the sins to experience firsthand, Gluttony was one the absolute worst ones.

That was what you had come to find out after a mishap in the kitchen.

You and Beel had been spending some time together when he got hungry so the two of you decided to go to the kitchen to get a snack. 

You saw a plate of cookies there with a note saying “From Purgatory Hall”.

You and Beel had assumed that it was a gift from Luke so you each took one, happily indulging in the small angel’s treats. 

It was only after you and Beel had switched bodies that you realized those cookies were definitely not made by Luke. 

You and Beel looked at each other wide-eyed as you took in each other’s appearances. You quickly grabbed the note that was left with the cookies and turned the paper over.

You let out a small gasp as you saw that the back of the note was signed by Solomon. Of course - who else would it be?

You pulled out your D.D.D. and immediately called Solomon. He answered the phone and before he could say a word, you asked, “Solomon, what were in those cookies and how long do the effects last?”

“Beel? You sound distressed,” Solomon replied. You mentally face-palmed as you realized you were using Beel’s phone and that you had his voice since you were in his body.

“It’s not Beel, it’s Y/N. We switched bodies after eating one of the cookies you so kindly left here for us,” you explained.

“Really? I must have mixed up the ingredients,” Solomon muttered to himself, getting lost in thought.

“Solomon - the cure?” you questioned, bringing him back to the conversation at hand. “Right, I’ll be right over,” Solomon replied, hanging up.

You looked over at your body and saw Beel rubbing his hands over your stomach. A blush coated your cheeks as you asked, “Beel?”

He was now blushing too as he realized what he had been doing. “Sorry - it’s just that I feel so full. I can’t remember ever feeling like this,” he replied with a smile.

You thought it was cute how happy he looked to finally be full. But the moment was soon ruined when you felt a sharp pain in your stomach followed by a loud growl.

Your eyes went wide and flashed the color red before you suddenly felt terrible. As if you had been starved for years and years on end even though you had just eaten. 

Beel could see the amount of pain you were in and immediately rushed through the kitchen grabbing whatever he could and giving it to you to eat.

You didn’t care what it was, you just needed food. If this was how hungry Beel felt all the time, you felt like the rampages he went on from time to time were completely justifiable.

Beel felt so guilty as he watched you eat, worried about you. He knew how hard it was to be so hungry you felt like your stomach was tearing itself open. 

He had learned how to manage his hunger from the centuries he had been alive. But he couldn’t imagine how hard it was for you to feel this way for the first time.

Beel gently rubbed your back as he told you, “Solomon will be here soon.” He was doing whatever he could to try and help.

As if on cue, Solomon suddenly knocked on the door and Beel immediately rushed him inside the house and led him to you. Solomon saw the drastic situation and immediately said the spell to undo the effects of the cookie.

You let out a huge sigh of relief as you were finally in your body, the famished feeling finally gone. Beel also looked much more relaxed now that you weren’t in any pain.

You turned toward Solomon and gave him a very serious look before telling him, “You’re banned from the kitchen.”

Solomon opened his mouth to argue, but when he saw the expression you made, he quickly closed it again. He gave you a small nod before leaving and you turned your attention to Beel.

“How about a Crazy Ghoul hamburger for a snack?” you asked him with a small smile as you began cooking.

You now knew that even if Beel didn’t say anything, he was constantly hungry and it was now your mission to try and bring that smile back to his face when he finally felt full.

Whenever you could, you would try and bring Beel his favorite snacks accompanied by a hug or a small kiss on his cheek.

And although he may not feel full in the food sense, he did feel fulfilled in a completely different way.

You let out a small chuckle as Belphie’s head fell to your shoulder for the fifth time in the span of thirty minutes.

You looked down at his sleeping face and couldn’t help but smile at how peaceful he looked.

You didn’t want to disturb his sleep and wake him up. But the two of you were currently being tutored by Solomon and Satan and you were afraid of what would happen if Satan caught him sleeping.

“Belphie,” you whispered softly as his eyes fluttered open. “Come on, we’re almost done and then we can go up to the attic for a nap,” you promised Belphie.

He was reluctant but nodded his head, once again sitting up. You turned your attention to Satan and Solomon once again and Satan said, “Okay, now that we’ve said the incantation to start the spell, all you have to do is add the ingredients, Y/N.” 

You nodded your head as you began adding the ingredients one by one. “Okay, and just a dash of powdered toadstool,” you said to yourself as you opened the small container to grab a pinch of the ingredient.

Just then, Belphie’s head once again collapsed on your shoulder, causing your hand to falter. You spilled almost the entire container of the powdered toadstool into the pot and you, Satan, and Solomon all looked at each other with a hint of panic in your eyes.

It can’t be that bad, right?

Belphie suddenly felt wide awake as he looked at everyone around the room. His eyes widened as he saw himself staring right back at him and he immediately looked down and noticed he was in your body.

You gave Belphie a pout as you stared at him. “Belphie, this is your fault,” you told him. Usually, your pouting was quite effective on him. But right now, with you being in his body, it didn’t have the same effect. In fact, all it did was make his head hurt.

Poor Belphie was still trying to comprehend what exactly happened.

Satan let out a slightly irritated sigh before telling you, “Solomon and I will work on the cure. Maybe the two of you should go somewhere where Lucifer won’t find you. The last thing I want is one of his lectures.”

You nodded your head and let out a yawn as you stood up and led Belphie up to the attic. 

Normally Belphie would be excited to go up to the attic with you and take a nap, but he wasn’t even the slightest bit tired right now.

You let out another yawn as Belphie sat down on the bed. You were suddenly extremely tired. The kind of tired where you felt like you would collapse if you stayed awake any longer.

You looked over at Belphie and instead of seeing your body, you simply saw a pillow. You gave him a small smile as you had a purple haze to your eyes and Belphie knew what you were feeling.

“Wait, Y/N-,” Belphie tried to say, but you didn’t give him the chance to get any other words out as you practically fell on top of him, wrapping your arms around the body as you felt yourself falling asleep.

Belphie was not enjoying a single moment of this. He couldn’t fall asleep even if he wanted to and yet you were passed out.

On top of that, you were laying on him and holding him close. He didn’t care if he was in your body, he wanted to do the same to you. This was his thing.

After a little while of laying there, Belphie felt as the two of you switched back, your positions reversing. 

You frowned as your eyes fluttered open and you said, “I was having such a good dream.” Belphie smiled at your words as he nuzzled even further into your chest. It was finally his turn.

You let out a small sigh, missing the feeling of cuddling into Belphie and instead essentially being his pillow.

Belphie seemed to sense your frustration and immediately pulled you on top of him, your leg resting over his body as your head rested in the crook of his neck.

Okay, so maybe it wasn’t that bad if you were the one on top of him as long as you were in your body and as long as he still got to lay on top of you when he wanted to.

Body swapping with Belphie gave you an insight into how tired Belphie was all the time and you didn’t blame him for falling asleep often.

On the other side, it gave Belphie the insight of what it was like to be the one who was being laid on. You were so much more than a pillow to him and he would make sure that from now on you got the cuddles you wanted in addition to the ones that he wanted.

[mylastmoleculeofserotonin]

I’m convinced that people who hate Mabel have a) never watched the show and/or b) don’t have siblings. Because until they encountered Bill Cipher for the first time, there was nothing to suggest Dipper’s obsession with the journals was more important or valid than Mabel just wanted to have a normal summer with a whirlwind romance. And even after incident with the portal Dipper and Ford actively keep everything secret from Mabel and Stan so she has no idea of the stakes or what Bill is capable of. Add to that that her dreams of the future were all suddenly crumbling around her all at once, and it is perfectly reasonable if not expected that she would fall for an immortal chaos demon’s tricks.

Also, most of the stuff involving the journal that goes wrong is Dipper’s fault but he still pretends like he and Mabel are in it together. And those of you who are siblings know that Mabel takes it extremely well. Like if I had accidentally sold my body as a puppet to a demon and the only way I could ask my sibling for help was through a sock puppet, I would expect them to help, but only after they spent a good half hour laughing and making fun of me with the additional consequence would be that any time I ask them for a small favor in the future, they would remind me that they were the one to save me from my stupid mistake, so no, they won’t pass me the salt.

(Also, can we just take a moment to see the giant double standards when it comes to the romances that Dipper and Mabel’s have. When Mabel pursues a romantic people treat it as irrelevant and getting in the way of the plot even when it doesn’t. But when Dipper tries to win Wendy’s affection, people expect Mabel to drop everything, sacrifice her pet, mess with time travel to help set up a scenario which Dipper can win a carnival game as a flex.)

[cloudysarts]

Hi there!!

I want to say that your “Mabel’s muse” Au concept has absolutely called my attention, Bill mentions multiple times (Dipper and Mabel’s guide to mystery and fun and TBOB) how he likes Mabel’s personality and wanted her to be his ally…sooo the idea of an alternative time where he decided to approach her and where she trusts him and considers him as her friend is absolutely full of potential

I just think about how many stuff would change and how bill would be a little more genuine with her as he for once isn’t pretending to be an all-wise being and having to constantly rise the ego of Genius minds…instead he just has to party with a teenager whose idea of fun is quite similar to his…he doesn’t have to be the “supreme being” for once just a silly fella in order to earn Mabel’s trust

Also about how some episodes would have to take a completely different route:

maybe “Mindscapers” wouldn’t even take place…because I doubt that Mabel would trust a Bill if he went inside Stan’s head

Bill possessing her during the “sock opera”episode instead of dipper

Also don’t get me started on “the last Mabelcorn” episode. All the angst and horror that Ford would feel when he finds out about the whole friendship with bill situation reflecting himself on Mabel and probably Dipper being the one who search for the unicorn hair while ford tries to convince her that Bill isn’t trustworthy

I apologize for my rant but I seriously love your idea and sorry if it’s a bit confusing English isn’t my first language

I hope you have a nice day and thank you for reading this silly thing!!

first of all, your english is great!! second of all, i am SO sorry it took me so long to respond to this ask, it just made me so happy that i wanted to take my time to craft a response!!!!!! :DDDD (context: for people who don't know what my 'mabels muse' au is, you can check it out over here!)

you are practically SPOT ON with my ideas for this au!!!!!! but i'm gonna briefly run through all the things you brought up!!

first of all, yes, absolutely!!!! for bill, partner-ing up with mabel was a very nice change of pace. he likes stroking the ego's of genius', just for his own amusement, but he doesnt get the THRILL of just getting to PLAY very often!! he's a very childish being, at the end of the day. he enables mabel's selfishness, while getting to indulge his own, silly passions right alongside her!! and obviously, mabel LOVES being enabled <3 i imagine most of the dreams he gives her would make any normal persons eyes bleed

as for your episode ideas, you're mostly right!!! :) mindscaperers does, in fact, NOT happen in this au. in my head, i imagine gideon trying to summon him, only for an 'I.O.U' to appear where bill should be. he's busy hanging out with his favorite pre-teen!!! so gideon skips straight to his backup plan, aka, gideon rises ^^

for sock opera, i'm still on the fence a little bit. one of the reasons bill is hanging out with her at all in this au is because, unlike in the regular timeline, this bill actively wants stanford to be brought home. the reason mabel is important to him, is because he can see timelines where she presses the button in not what he seems, and keeps him from returning. in his mind, he has the greatest shot of success if mabel doesn't press it. in this au, she doesnt even hesitate to trust stan, because she has another, trustworthy voice in her head, yelling DON'T PRESS THE BUTTON. its 2v1! ANYWAY, the reason any of that matters for sock opera, is because he wouldnt have any need to possess anyone, because he has no interest in smashing the laptop! BUT.....i can see him doing it anyway. i figure, most likely, he gets mabel to (willingly) let him use her body, so that she can work on her sock opera while her body sleeps. i just imagine a bill-possessed mabel up at 3 am, covered in hot glue and googly eyes as he tries to work it out shjdkfhjsdkf. but......honestly, he probably destroys the laptop in the process :) just to fuck with dipper <3 not that dipper ever finds out its her. he has no idea that mabel was ever possessed/has no reason to suspect her, because at this point, he still doesnt think bill is real. that is....until the last mabelcorn.

IN the last mabelcorn, mabel reveals to ford that she does recognize bill, and that he lives in her brain! she says it really excitedly, at the table, while dipper kind of just rolls his eyes about it. to her, its vindicating, because it's the first time anyone has ever acknowledged bills existence. but to ford, its HORRIFYING, because he knows it isn't just a coincidence. he knows he has to do something, but he doesn't know what, right away. this is where our ideas differ a little bit, because i think that mabel still WOULD be the one retrieving the unicorn hair! ford just didnt tell her what the hair was for. ford sends her off, because he wants to brainstorm a way to get him out of her head, preferably without hurting her/her memories. he also plans to bill-proof dippers mind in the process, just in case mabel is too far gone already. the events here happen basically the same (with minor tweaks), but instead of dipper suspecting that ford is evil/bill-possessed, this is where he finally learns that bill is real at all. ford tells him about his backstory, and explains the REAL reason he sent mabel out to get the unicorn hair, etc etc. he loves mabel a lot, but hes not sure how to go about dealing with this situation yet. its not HER fault she trusted bill, but he knew that if he just tries to tell her hes evil, she wont believe him. shes known 'her muse' longer, and as of right now, he's never lead her wrong. just like what happened to him in the past...

i wonder how mabel would feel if she only heard the end of that conversation...

(more of this au here and here!)

[softshuji]

'One second Princess, I just gotta take this.'

Rindou turns from you, gently folding your creased old and tattered mom jeans over his forearm. You wave him off and turn the TV higher as background noise as he moves from the floor of your bedroom to the landing where he leans against the wall, and answers the call, one arm leaning over the doorframe.

You hear his voice then, a little gruff, a little impatient at being disturbed, even if he'll never admit to being so anyway, a low undulating hum over the tv.

'There had better be a good reason you're calling at this time,' he says and it has you smiling, that he reserves all the patience in the world for you and no one else.

And then under it, still somehow reaching your ear even if you pretend it hasn't is sanzu's high and excited voice. 'come on, come out with us, it'll be fun!' and you hide the smile that comes so easily when Rindou pinches the bridge of his nose with an exaggerated and exacerbated sigh.

'Yeah no, can't, not today,' he says, so matter of factly, not the type to mince words at all- a fact that you've learned through experience.

And you almost sense sanzu's face falling, the excited grin dropped as easily as it has come. 'What, why not?'

'Because I don't want to.'

'Even though your brother is going?'

Rindou has a hand on his hip and you giggle behind a folding shirt, at the silhouette of him in matching pajamas, hair thrown into a haphazard ponytail, and sugar still on his lips.

'So? He can keep you company, I'm not interested tonight.'

'Really?' and sanzu pouts and whines on the other side. 'what could be that important?'

Rindou glances at you, engrossed in a TV advert, or pretending to be rather- he knows better- your ice cream melting on the beside drawer, clothes and bin bags scattered around, and heaped in the bedroom corners.

'I'm...' And he flares with heat already. 'I'm helping my girl sort out some old clothes. She's recycling them and asked for my help going through them.' and it's embarrassing to say- and yet not, when he thinks of all the secret kisses he's stolen since you've sat on the carpeted floors, all the jokes and giggles he's pulled from you already tonight.

And then sanzu, dead pan and with a groan of frustration. 'That's what's so important?'

Rindou bites his lip, a far more aggressive retort than 'You had better watch your mouth' dying on his tongue.

And sanzu laughs, a cackle that tells him he's gotten the rise he was looking for. 'Fine, fine, but we're dragging you next time.' and a click as he ends the call.

There's another sigh then as Rindou pockets his phone and comes to sit on the carpet with you again, unfolding the jeans on his forearm.

'Y'know..... Rin, you didn't have to stay,' You say, eyes fixated on the tv as you roll up a pair of socks in your hand, gaze deliberately averted to avoid the naked awe and adoration. 'I could have finished this myself.'

And he rubs his neck, a little embarrassed as he picks up an old t shirt and tosses it into a black bin bag. 'Yeah well....I wanted to.'

'You should have gone, you would have had fun.' and your hand finds his somewhere among the old clothes, fingers now around his palm where you meet the same old loved callouses.

'I am having fun.'

'You are? With me? Even when this is so boring?'

'I am, with you, and it's not boring to me.'

'Sure?'

'I'm sure. And I'm done with the jeans, I can do the shirts now.'

And he hopes you believe it, a small smile that gifts him as a reward when you touch his hand again amidst the old clothes.

[portgasdwrld]

★ Cleaning

↺ nsfw content featuring Ace x fem!reader

Summary: After being scolded by you because of his messy room, he finds himself tidying up his space, but falls on a pair of your thong. Let’s say, he easily got distracted…

Warning: NSFW content

｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡･:*:･ﾟ☆

-Ace?

He watches you walk toward the busy table with a bag in your hand. You don’t seem particularly pleased with seeing him and your eyebrows are slightly frowned. He pushes back a little his hat and stares at you with curious eyes. Your fellow crew members look at you intrigued as you close the distance, flickering their gaze between you two.

-Can I talk to you for moment?

You ask, but it sounded more like a demand from your tone. He knows at this moment that you are indeed pissed and he quickly nods. He stands up to walk away as his friends tease him about being a bad boyfriend to you.

-What’s wrong pretty girl?

He asks with a smile to relax the atmosphere, but it only earns him an annoyed sigh from you as you roll your eyes.

-Your room, that’s the problem.

-Huh?

He looks at you absently as he tries to recall what did he possibly did wrong this morning to piss you off so much. You quickly bring him back to reality as your hand softly grab his forearm.

-Ace, baby, I love you but I cant possibly sleep in your room anymore with the mess.

-It’s not that ba-

-Yes it’s that bad! I didn’t mind the messy clothes laying a bit everywhere, but I draw the line at food spoiling in your room as flies make it their own territory.

You explain frustrated at Ace’s easygoing attitude when it comes to cleaning. You let go of your hold and cross your arm against your chest. Yes you love him, yes he’s really important to you, but he still gets on your nerves at times.

-But-

-And! The dirty socks ?? It needs to go, there is a dirty-clothe basket for a reason.

-Y/n, wait-

-No, I’m done. If the room isn’t clean by tonight, I’m sleeping with the girls like I used to.

He cocks an eyebrow at you with a small smile, not believing your words. You two have been sleeping in the same bed for around a month now, and he can’t possibly imagine not having you in his arms while he sleeps. He challenges you a little with his furrowed eyebrows and sly smile. You roll your eyes at him once again and huff.

-I do my fair share of cleaning as we share your room and I know you can be busy when I’m not, but it has to be fair. The dirty plates really are my limit…So yeah, I’m being serious.

You hand him the bag with the garbages that you collected earlier as you were thinking what to tell him. You are upset, but you also get that he’s a pirate and probably never had proper discipline when it comes to that.

Ace frowns a little as he understands this is truly a serious situation and takes the bag in your hand. You avoid his face as you don’t want to be influenced by his charm and back down on your boundaries. You feel him walk closer to you and leave a quick peck on your forehead.

-Then you won’t be mad at me anymore?

He concludes with a soft smile. He takes your hand into his. You nod as you put distance again between you two by taking a step back.

-Yes, but it has to become a habit Ace..

-I will try my best! Let me take care of this, so my princess is able to sleep in a clean space tonight!…and after tonight too!

You chuckle a little, glad to see him enthusiastic and understanding to your frustrations.

-Thank you

-No problem, I will see you later then!

He smiles at you one last time and he doesn’t miss the chance to steal a kiss on your lips before walking away from you: Direction, his room!

——

As Ace walks in, he’s met by his familiar room. The bed is undone and he can see the beginning of your cleaning and where you clearly gave up. You left a pile of dishes on his desk and the dirty clothes near the bed.

The fire user sighs at the view, knowing it’s gonna be quite the work, but if it’s for you, anything is worth it. He starts by the easiest which is dropping the dirty dishes in the ship kitchen and quickly washing them.

He quickly runs back to his room ready to attack the next task. He takes a wet clothe and pass over his fournitures to remove accumulated dusts. He places your books as a small pile on his desk and put his maps in their designated basket, along with any files he had left around.

After running around the ship, he gets his hand on a broom. He cleans the floors from the dusts and any garbages, after putting the clothes on the bed to fold them or throw them in the dirty-clothe basket.

He finally sits down on the bed. As he’s drinking water, he eyes the clothes and pass his hands through the familiar pieces that you wear and he wears. He puts the water down and attack the pile of clothes.

It’s going very well until, he’s almost at the end of it and he falls on one of your pair of thongs. Ace can’t help himself but smirk as he exactly remember when you wore this and what exactly happened after this was removed from you. He finds himself lost between his dirty thoughts, him missing you, him being tired of cleaning.

A little break wont’t hurt right? As long as everything is done by tonight..?

He grins mischievously as he lays down on his bed. He closes his eyes for a second as he sighs before opening them once again and stares at your pair of panties between his fingers. Despite knowing you would kill him if you saw him possibly , maybe highly considering jerking off instead of cleaning, the thought is getting more and more tempting.

Damn he loves it when you stand your ground and show how confident you are. He loves when you climb on top of him and you two make out for minutes and minutes before getting to the act. Those moments where his hands roam all over your curves, feeling the goosebumps on your skin. He loves when you touch his bare chest with your fingers and press slightly your core against him. He loves how lost you get when he touches you, how your confident behaviour crumbles whenever he presses kisses over your body. You are such a turn on to him, it’s almost unfair.

He feels his shorts getting tighter as a tent form under the material. He sighs as he brushes his free hand in his dark hair. He looks at the ceiling as he let his other hand flop against the mattress.

“I can maybe do this in like 10 minutes? And like get back to cleaning after..”

He mumbles to himself as he tries to convince himself it’s a good plan even though he clearly has a feeling that it is not.

“Huh fuck it”

He concludes nonchalantly with a slight shoulder shrug as he awkwardly massages his cock through his shorts. What are the possible odds you enter the room while he decides to do this…

He hisses at the pleasure that the slight friction gives him and his eyes dart to your thong which he’s now holding tighter between his fingers.

From this moment, his mind forgets all about the cleaning task and he’s only thinking of your silhouette, the curve of your body, the view he has when you two are having intercourse. He’s thinking of how he ate your pussy out with this exact thong pressed against your wet core, you always get so wet for him.

His cock now in his hands, Ace allows himself to start with slow strokes which leaves him wishing for your presence. Your lips wrap his tip so well, you suck it and lick it with such skills that he dreams of spending a day just getting his cock sucked by you. Your name leaves his lips as he begins to go faster, occasionally holding his cock tighter like you do.

He’s lost in his train of thoughts before he hears some rumbling outside of his room and your voice from afar after being greeted by Marco. Usually he wouldn’t bother to hide the fact that he was jerking off, but now was a different situation. In panic he pulls his shorts up, but as you open the door, you seem to quickly notice something is off.

“Hey…I came to see how the cleaning was going..”

You trail off as you scan the room. Ace who was just now looking at you with surprised Bambi eyes, cough to shake the awkwardness away and points at his desk area with a slight blush.

“Well the desk is now uhh clean and uh I’m um finishing the clothes..”

“With my thong in your hand?”

You cock an eyebrow at his hand. Ace didn’t notice that he was still holding tightly into the piece of clothing when he pointed at his desk.

His hard bulge makes it harder for him to focus as all he’s thinking right now is tossing the clothes on the floor and fuck you. His eyes stare at you without much thoughts behind.

“Yeah…well your clothes are mixed up with mine”

You squint your eyes at him, before nodding still skeptic. You know Ace, you know your boyfriend, you clearly have an idea of what he was possibly doing and as you step on his belt laying on the floor, it completely confirms it for you.

“You did a better job than I was expecting …”

You start as you ignore him and analyze his job so far. Ace awkwardly shifts on the bed, trying to find a more confortable position that would relieve a little his dick.

“Oh..uh thanks babe, I really tried my best..”

“…, but there is clearly still unfinished work but I guess I did say you have until tonight for it to be done.”

You finish as you turn to face him and point at the pile of clothing. You cross your arms over your chest as you lean back on the desk for support. Ace looks delicious. His shorts are barely hanging on his waist, his obvious hard bulge, his toned body glistening from a slight sweat, his dark long hair covering a little his face and his flushed freckled cheeks.

“I will finish it don’t worry”

He says as he holds eye contact with you and a confident smile. You scoff as a smirk curve your lips. You uncross your arms and walk closer to him. You cup his face with one of your hand, your boyfriend on the other side is still holding eye contact with you. You peck his lips and you find it a bit funny how easily he left a sigh out.

“Alright, then I guess I’m done here”

You try to walk away, but Ace’s hand is quick to hold you back by holding one of your thighs. You know he’s not in a position to ask for favors after the whole cleaning situation and he’s very well aware of this too, which is why he hasn’t flipped you over, back pressed on the bed and fucked you already.

“You can kiss me better than this”

He teases as you feel his thumb massage circles on your skin.

“I will when you hold your promise Fire-Fist”

You reply as you flick his forehead. He whines a little and suddenly his attitude changes completely. He sighs defeated as he let go of his hold on you and lay down again on the bed.

“Alright baby, then see you tonight”

He smirks as he watches your confused expression. You nod slowly, “is he going to just continue what he was doing with my old pair of underwear…” you think to yourself. You slightly get annoyed that he’s able to always be so cool about everything. It’s not fair, because you really wanted to give him the best blowjob ever because he just looks amazing and you love him, but you have your pride. So you decide to not make it so easy for him, make him see what he’s clearly missing by not finishing up his cleaning task.

You quickly kick your footwear off and climb on top of him, surprising him. You smirk to yourself as you feel satisfied with the expected reaction you wanted.

“And what are you going to do Babe?”

You coo at him as you dangerously close the distance between your bodies. Ace brown eyes glitter in excitement and his hands find themselves naturally on your exposed thighs.

His cock is painfully hard at this point. Ace furrows his eyebrows, before tightly closing his eyes in pleasure when your knee softly presses against his bulge.

“Your cock is so hard baby..it must hurt so bad”

You continue in a fake concern. Ace doesn’t answer and he simply let his fingers travel under your shorts where he grabs tightly your ass. You leave at first a peck on his neck and then multiple butterflies kisses all over his torso, until you are facing his hard dick still hidden under his shorts.

“Your dick is probably leaking in precum already”

You continue, trying to push him to the edge. You know you have the control over the situation, but the thought of him randomly snapping and fucking you was incredibly tempting. But you had to stick to your plan. You pan your hot breath over his length under Ace lustful eyes. He’s tightly holding into the bed sheets and that’s when you figure it’s best to leave it there for now.

“Too bad there is still some cleaning to do”

You conclude as you remove yourself from him with a fake disappointed pout. You grin to Ace who looks completely out of it. His head heavily falls back against his pillow as he sighs annoyed.

You put your shoes back and as you’re about to leave, you hear your boyfriend speak.

“Enjoy whatever you have to do now, because I promise you won’t be able to walk tomorrow.”

You don’t turn around and simply close the door behind yourself.

A clean room and a hard fuck? Seems like the perfect night.

As of now, Ace has to finish, well his

Cleaning.

lowkey might do a part 2. If I have time

[rubyin-wonderland]

Cupcake

opla!Sanji x gn!reader

Summary: During some late night baking, your flirty crewmate decides to keep you company.

WC: 1.9k

Warnings/tags: traditionally feminine adjectives (pretty, gorgeous, beautiful) but no gender is explicitly stated, fluff, self deprecation, lots of compliments, self indulgent

Note: first attempt at a Sanji fic because branching out is important

Night has overtaken the ship. It's calm, and stars blink in the sky, twinkling for the world to see. The soft rocking of the water has lulled nearly everyone aboard into a sweet, lovely sleep.

You were the only one awake, settled in the kitchen, a pile of various ingredients surrounding you as you prepared to bake. There was no reason behind your choice of late night activity. No anniversary or debt in need of repaying or any special event that required baked goods. It was just a calm enough night, and you couldn't sleep, so it seemed like a proper course of action.

As you began to measure out the ingredients, separating them into bowls for organisation, you heard a creak, followed by footsteps. Somebody else was awake, and was coming closer.

You watched as the door opened, revealing Sanji, yawning, before noticing you, and stopping dead in his tracks, surprised at the sight of you, hard at work this late at night.

"Well, good morning." He gave you a quick smile before stretching a little bit. "Couldn't sleep?"

"Kind of." You watch as he approaches you, inspecting the counter and your little process. "What are you doing?"

"Making cupcakes." You answered simply, dropping the flour into the bowl, a cloud of white rising as the flour settled.

"So late at night?" "Maybe I'm really early. How about you?"

He smiled. "I was going to get a glass of water." You gestured behind you. "Go on, I won't stop you."

He passed by you to grab a glass. "So, baking all alone?"

"Yeah. I find it relaxes me." He nodded, then took a careful step towards the door. "Well, if I'm bothering you-"

"You're not."

The words came out quick, and you had hoped you hadn't sounded desperate. You doubted the chef could ever be a bother to you, and you truly hoped he would stay to accompany you while you worked.

"Oh. Well then, could I stay? And watch you bake?" He moved back to the side of the island, standing opposite you, looking hopeful that you would say yes to his request. "Only if you promise to stay out of the way." You said, trying to push back a little after your small outburst earlier.

He nodded and pulled up a chair, sitting down to watch you work. You moved swiftly, pouring the ingredients into their proper bowls, making sure the measurements were just right.

"So," he broke the silence between you. "Do you bake often?"

"I used to. It was quite the hobby back at home, but I haven't had the chance to do it here yet." Sanji nodded. "What do you like to make?"

You smiled, thinking back to the copious recipes you had backed up in your brain. "Where do I start? Cookies, breads, pastries, pies, anything really. And cakes." You gestured at your handiwork. "Cakes, of course."

"Are they your favourite to make?" Sanji asked. "Oh yeah. Used to spend all day decorating them with my mom. Icing them with my favourite colours and absolutely drenching them with sprinkles." You smiled at the memory. "Sounds nice." Sanji smiled back. "She'd like you." You said suddenly.

"She would?" He asked, a little taken aback.

The look on his face told you that you might have messed up again, possibly treading a little too close to the knowledge that you liked him. But it was too late to backpedal.

"Yeah. She'd probably call you a sweetie, invite you to dinner, and insist that you leave the house with a pair of newly knit socks."

"Your mother sounds lovely." You nodded. "She is. I hope she's not lonely without me to keep her company." "I'm sure the people of your village take good care of her." Sanji comforted.

"I'm sure too. Maybe I'll write her a letter sometime. Maybe she'll even write back. One can hope."

"I'm sure she'd be happy to see you sharing your talents with your crew."

You nodded your head in thanks. "Oh, you flatter me."

"You are quite worth it." He smiled at you, something you had taken a liking to. He reminded you a little of what you imagined princes looked like in fairy tales. Handsome, charming.

The conversation went cold as you continued working, focused on the process ahead of you.

You stirred the batter, carefully adding the dry ingredients to the mixture, combining the two.

You were focused, making sure not to spill anything as you worked carefully.

"You're really pretty when you're focused."

The words slipped out without warning. Even Sanji seemed a little surprised at his comment. He'd flirted with you before, but it had always been so worked up. An act. Over dramatic and at least to you, unserious.

You had never taken his compliments seriously. At best, you thought he was trying to make you feel better about yourself. You figured it was just an act he put on to humour you, and you enjoyed it, even if it didn't boost your confidence all that much.

Admittedly, you liked Sanji. Far more than any of your other crewmates. If he were to feel the same, you would be delighted, but you were almost entirely sure he wasn't. He also flirted with Nami, and so many others who would likely be much better matches for him.

You could stand having his pity flirts to tide you over while he found someone he truly liked.

However, this was no typical flirt. There was no quick wink or smirk on his face. Just honesty. And that was so unexpected you nearly dropped your bowl.

You managed to set the bowl of dry ingredients down without spillage, trying to calm down the incessant fluttering in your chest.

"I mean, you, uh, I was going to say, I only meant that..." he was unable to say anything coherent. A man with a thousand lines backed up in his brain, suddenly rendered speechless.

You backed away from the counter, trying to ignore the warmth spreading across your face. Your jaw went slack as you watched him try to come up with something, anything, to save himself.

"I'm sorry, I should just go." Sanji was as red as a tomato, taking his glass and shuffling towards the door.

"Wait." Your voice commanded him, and he turned around to face you again, looking rather ashamed of himself.

"Did you mean that?" "It just slipped out, don't be uncomfortable, I just-" "You really think I'm pretty?" You didn't believe it, but maybe you could humour him for once.

He almost laughed in disbelief. "Of course I do! Who wouldn't?"

"Plenty of people. Lots of men. And I mean lots." Sanji scoffed. "Forget them. They're nothing but trouble. You're gorgeous."

You could sense it returning. The typical flirting. His overdramatic way of trying to comfort you.

"Oh please, like you haven't been playing with me all this time too." You swatted your hand at him. "You and your over the top flirting, I know what you think of me."

Sanji frowned, confused. "And what do I think of you?"

"Not much. You notice me and don't want to hurt my feelings by ignoring me so you flirt anyways. I know you don't truly think I'm pretty-" he practically gasped at your statement. "-but I promise I don't hold it against you. It's nice that you try to get me to think I'm pretty, but I know I'm not. That's okay. I have other skills."

"How could you possibly think that?" Sanji looked more than horrified. "I have never flirted with anyone I have found less than stunning."

You laughed, getting back to your baking, mixing the dry ingredients with the wet. "There's a first time for everything."

Sanji looked absolutely distraught. "You don't seriously think I say everything I do to you as a joke? As consolation?"

You shrugged. "I mean, yeah? You just always put so much effort into your flirting, I thought it was a joke. I never knew if you meant it or not. I figured you didn't."

He walked forward, looking you in the eye from across the island, trying to convey how truthful he was being.

"I promise you, you are beautiful. Any old fool could see that. You are pretty when you're focused and I have never been more enchanted by someone in my life. And I mean that."

You laughed awkwardly, face still blazing hot. "Okay, you don't have to prove it. You can stop it, Sanji."

He circled the room until he was stood right next to you. The last of the dry ingredients fell into your batter and you set the bowl down, not mixing it yet.

"If you do not believe it tonight, I will tell you tomorrow, and the day after it, and the day after that, for however long it takes for you to believe it."

You chuckled softly. "Okay. I gotta finish these cupcakes." Sanji gently reached out a hand, resting it on your shoulder so that you would look at him.

"You are pretty, whether you believe it or not." You gently shrugged him off, though treasuring the feeling of his hand touching you. "Okay, whatever you say."

The two of you did not speak after that. He returned to his spot on the other side of the island, and the two of you spent the rest of the baking process in silence, until the last batch of cupcakes were removed from the oven.

"I'm gonna get a bit of sleep before the sun rises." You said quietly, waking up your companion, who had been napping on the countertop.

"Of course, cupcake." He said, clearly tired and a little delirious. The mix-up was clear, and yet, it had sounded like a pet name. And you giggled. The second the noise left your mouth, you turned red, and ran from the room, scurrying back to your bedroom to get a few blinks of sleep before the next day's adventures.

When you awoke, you did not feel well rested at all, but at the very least, you could sneak a tasty cupcake in at breakfast, as long as Luffy hadn't found and finished them all as soon as he saw them.

The kitchen was lively with early morning chatter, and you noticed a plate of neatly decorated cupcakes on the counter. Iced with your favourite colour, drizzled in sprinkles. Each one prettier than the last.

You looked over at the chef, who was caught between two pans of scrambled eggs and bacon, trying to see if it was him who had decorated them.

He looked up from his work briefly and smiled at you.

"Good morning cupcake." Your face burned under his eyes. Of course he had heard your giggle, and of course he was holding it against you.

"Did you do this?" You asked, pointing at the cupcakes. "Yes, I'm sorry but I figured you'd like them nice and iced. Like you said earlier. I left most of the rest for you to decorate, if you want."

"I didn't know you knew my favourite colour." You said, picking up a cupcake, admiring it.

"Of course I do. Someone so pretty deserves to have things remembered." You rolled your eyes at his not-so-sneaky attempt at flattering you. "Nice try, Sanji, but I'm not a fool." You took a bite from your cupcake.

He sighed. "I'll have to try harder next time."

"You don't have to do this. I'm fine, I promise you."

"I'm not doing this because I have to, cupcake." He grinned at the flustered look on your face. "I'm doing this because you deserve it."